


Starsick And Sprinting From A Black Hole

by pxncey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Army Veteran Hux, Blood and Gore, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Repression™, Slow Burn, Southern Gothic, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 73,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6487246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxncey/pseuds/pxncey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The creature standing outside the classroom window is something between a wild cat and a hound, with matted black fur and a disturbing mass of muscle stretched over its bones. One leg is grotesquely torn, angling outwards in a way that can only mean that it was broken by force. Hux feels a terrible twisting in his gut. The beast bares its teeth like it's ready to lunge, and Hux stands suddenly, eyes wide, and stumbles over an incomprehensible "What—" as the monster locks eyes with him.</p><p>A few students look up at him, waiting for him to say something, but he can't seem to manage even a sentence when faced with all their bemused faces. He looks away from the class and out the window again, at the empty school grounds, the fallen leaves and the half-damp concrete, and something drops in his stomach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> • Welcome to 1950s kylux hell. apologies for all of my attempts at adding in authentic settings, outfits, and slang.  
> • at the beginning of this fic, Kylo is 17, and Hux is 28.  
> • PSA to all younger readers: I'm an unhealthy person and i write about unhealthy things. doesn't mean it's cool to do them. student/teacher relationships aren't healthy, aren't safe, aren't smart. regardless of circumstance if your teacher is making advances towards you please report them.  
> • Thx. peace.

A creature cries out on a clear night—a single, soft note. The lake it sits at the foot of is pierced as it claws at the water with a swipe of its paw. Its face is as torn and distorted in reality as it is in the rippled reflection.

All of the lights are off in the house by the lake, and the creature hunches its back and drops its head, and melts into the thorny foliage.

—

Everything about Hux's life is precise. His strict upbringing in the orphanage, his years in the military, the way he holds himself and all things about him are precise and orderly and severe. And it's no longer entirely because he enjoys it or because he's used to it, but because it is so very ingrained inside him that he's unsure he even has the capacity to do anything spontaneous. He feels like he would be too in the dark, too lost at sea to be able to process anything that wasn't completely laid out for him in the clean way everything always has been.

When he wakes in the night, of course it's at precisely three in the morning. He shifts under his tidy sheets, and looks at the blackish shapes of things he can't quite make out in his room. He's organised the master bedroom of his father's old house to look as much like his military dormitory as possible; he will never adjust to civilian life but he can try, by centring everything around order—his belongings, his job, and his head.

Hux wrinkles his nose as he notices a faint smell of copper in his room, but he can hardly get up to find out what it is or if he's actually dreaming it. It's the middle of the night and he's halfway asleep. He watches the neat square of light the lone streetlamp at the end of the private lane casts on his ceiling as he goes back to sleep.

A shape obscures the light; it looks something like a large house cat has made its way up onto his windowsill. He rolls over and taps at the glass to drive the creature away, but its shadow doesn't move in the slightest. Stubborn thing. Hux watches the wall to his left through the dark of his room instead, feeling insistently drained all of a sudden. There is a sensation, almost heady in his chest, like there is smoke settling in his lungs. Hux is heavily drowsy, and falls asleep in a moment. The cat finally leaves.

Perhaps complete disorder is a little out of reach for Hux. But maybe he needs something of the absurd.

—

Hux is an austere teacher, and he prides himself in being the only one whose pupils never talk back to him. He makes all of his students call him General: 'Mister' will never feel appropriate, and 'General' incites far more fear. There isn't a child in the school who doesn't believe that he'll order a strike on anyone who steps out of line—save for Ben Solo, or _Kylo,_ as he rudely insists on being called. 'Kylo Ren' is a sickly-minded boy, with greasy, ratty hair and a spiteful compulsion to defy Hux's authority as far as possible without being shot with the rifle it's rumoured that Hux keeps under his desk. (No one has ever been brave enough to check, so it must be accepted as true, as the rule of school gossip goes.)

It's the first thing to know, as a teacher, when students talk about you. Hux knows, he always knows. He knows there's rumours, he knows they make fun of him when he's not around. He knows how scared they are that he might be aware of it. He's carefully unbothered by what comes from any young mouth.

What's most spoken of between the students, surprisingly, is not some petty mockery of his name like it is in the case of the other teachers (and he knows how easy it would be with his name in particular). It's how he managed to reach the position of general so young, and why he left his high British military position to teach at Oranato High, South Carolina, of all places. Hux does not like to think about that. He supposes it's better to simply be reminded of the mistakes he made than to be called General Fucks, though.

Language has always been a small passion of Hux's, a controlled one that never really flourished because it never really needed to. Now, as an English Language teacher, he gets to live his passion every day, although not particularly passionately. American schools are not really to his taste, not what he was expecting—even if most of the students gratify him like obedient mice, it all feels somewhat wrong—but it isn't as if he could just leave. He's here on strict conditions.

Class is peaceful today: several students are off sick, with what Hux assumes must be the plague if it's taking so many of his students for such great stretches of time. The remaining teens can't seem to bother to be irritating, and barely whisper among themselves as Hux finishes writing his personal notes on _Dracula_ on the chalkboard. He sits at his desk, crossing his legs in a careful way as to keep the neat crease in his trousers intact, and stares out the window aimlessly as the students' inkpens scratch at their books. It isn't like Hux to be aimless, and he knows it, and fleetingly wonders if he has caught what all of the children seem to have.

It's halfway into second period when Kylo arrives, and Hux raps his knuckles with a ruler and calls him Ben. It earns him a snarl, and Hux puts the boy in detention immediately. "I'm not in the mood for your antics today," he mutters. "Get out your exercise book and get writing."

Kylo haughtily picks up his book from Hux's desk, and tightens his scarf around his neck, despite the fact that it's approximately a hundred degrees outside. He sinks sullenly into a seat at the back of the room, and scuffs at the floor with his shoes as he starts copying Hux's notes. Hux considers confiscating his scarf, because it's mid summer in South fucking Carolina and he's just being ridiculous, but then realises that it is probably covered in neck sweat, and settles uncomfortably back into his desk chair to watch the nothingness out the window beside his seat.

The classroom smells fusty and every surface that has the capacity to hold mould has it growing on it, even, inexplicably, parts of the wall. It's stuffy and confining, and Hux always looks forward to his breaks, until they arrive, and it occurs to him that the only other place he can go is the staffroom. The staffroom smells somewhat better, of burnt coffee and apple cores, but it's full of vile people and vile mess. At least the classroom has some level of order, and he can control most people in there. (Control is a lovely thing to Hux.) So Hux spends his short break on the school grounds, trying to ignore the jabbering children and enjoy the fresh air, and spends his lunch break in his classroom on his own.

Occasionally, Phasma, an assistant from a department she never discloses, appears, and offers to share her Irish coffee with him. They are kindred spirits from the first day she passes his classroom. She wears very well-ironed clothes and she has her secrets, and Hux feels a strange closeness to her in those two things. She won't tell him her first name, and he's aware that 'Phasma' is probably something she lifted from a cereal box superhero cartoon, but it's alright, he thinks. There's things he won't tell her either, and it's hardly like they owe each other anything.

Phasma can't be older than twenty, and Hux is sure that that's not past the legal drinking age in the US, but he needs his coffee, and she's too wonderfully severe for him to abandon. (Hux likes order; Hux does not necessarily like the law.)

The two of them pick at their packed lunches together. Hux systematically works through each item in the order he packed it, periodically looking out the window as he chews, while Phasma takes several bites of each thing, circling around her lunchbox until everything is finished. It's stuffy and warm inside, but out on the grounds everything is grey tinged, dashed with rain and darkened by dampness.

"Did you see that?" Phasma asks, and Hux tears his eyes away from the window to look at her.

"See what?" He glances briefly through the square of glass fitted into the classroom door that sees into the hall. "The children are back?"

When Hux turns back to look at Phasma though, he realises that she wasn't looking at the corridor, she was watching the school grounds out the window with him. Something indeterminable flashes over her face. "Nothing," she says. "It's fine, there's nothing there."

Hux eyes her for a moment, sniffs dismissively, then takes a sizeable bite of his apple.

"You know I'm not one for small talk," Phasma says after a while.

"I know very well," Hux says. He nearly adds, _'It's why I like you,'_ but he knows all too well that it would probably be a lie. He tolerates her, but he doesn't necessarily _enjoy_ her company. He doesn't really enjoy anything.

"And I'm certainly not one for formal social events," she continues. "But my father is remarrying in a week, and he insists that I have a date. He's forbidden me to turn up alone, lest I look like a single woman." The dry look on her face is enough to stir at least a little empathy in Hux.

"I hope you aren't asking me to take you," he says, although he's well aware of what Phasma is asking.

Phasma flicks the paper wrapper of her protein snack into the trash. "Would you?"

"This sounds an awful lot like something one would do for a friend."

"And we're not friends?" Phasma raises an eyebrow.

Hux lets out a sharp breath. "I don't have friends," he says tersely. "We're mutually beneficial to one other. We keep each other company."

"You mean we're friends."

There's a pause, and Hux closes his eyes. "Your words only." A bustle of noise echoes down the hallway, and Phasma starts packing up her lunch. She's about to leave when Hux catches her arm. His face is smooth and his eyes show nothing as he speaks. "I'll take you."

She smiles, her eyes unexpectedly warm, and pushes her blonde perm back into a neater arrangement as she turns to leave. Conveniently, she disappears out of sight a moment before the teenagers swamp up the corridors completely.

Afternoon period is good. Hux starts a discussion on gothic literature, and Maria Wood recites the entirety of Edgar Allen Poe's _The Raven_ by heart. Hux finds himself feeling rather restored by the end of it. An ordinarily quiet student makes several valuable points about growing use of the supernatural in eighteenth century works, and how it began to shape the way books were written, and Hux feels a vague sense of satisfaction. It's somewhat pleasing that his students have finally managed to learn something without him shoving it down their throats.

He doesn't have a day that good again for a long while.


	2. Chapter 2

"You're not going to make me write lines, are you?" Kylo asks at the beginning of his detention after several minutes of silence. His deep voice is mismatched with his slightly disproportionate teenage face, and Hux thinks, almost aggressively, that someone so immature shouldn't have such verbal power.

"Hardly," Hux says, not looking up from the work he's marking. "I'm not as conventional as you must think. I just appreciate order." He pushes a stack of papers across his desk towards Kylo. "You will finish any homework you have, then when you're done, you'll file these."

Kylo is sat in the furthest desk back while Hux remains in his seat at the front of the classroom. The rest of the class is empty, and as is the school, save for any other detention classes that Hux might be unaware of. "You could have told me that when I first came in," Kylo bites out, hauling himself up onto his legs like it actually takes effort (Hux is aware of how the other children chatter about his muscles, while he wonders how people can marvel at something so trivial. Hux doesn't understand how someone can put such effort into something as pointless as a toned body, and then recoil at anything academic). "I've got no homework."

"That's because you miss all of your classes," Hux says as Kylo makes his way through the desks towards the front of the room. He taps the neat pile of papers. "Here. These go in the filing cabinet."

Kylo picks up the stack of papers and kneels down next to the cabinet, opening the lowest drawer first.

"And besides," Hux says, continuing his point from earlier, "You ran in ten minutes early like you were late. The detention didn't start until four, and before the detention starts I can't tell you what to do. It's hardly my fault you sprinted to the furthest back desk before I could even speak."

With a scowl, Kylo starts pushing random papers into the spaces between folders. Hux stands up immediately, eyes sharp and jaw set, and wrenches Kylo's arm back. He resists clapping the child over the head, and instead glares at him to illustrate his point. "You're  _meant_ to try and figure out the system for yourself," Hux says. "Not create a whole new one with no basis."

"I can't work it out," Kylo says.

"You aren't even trying, boy." Hux is as close to incredulous as he has ever been at the immense laziness he's witnessing.

"I wouldn't be able to do it if I tried."

"But," Hux says in a lower voice, repressing his frustration, "You haven't yet."

Kylo's eyes are wide and full of wretched insolence when he looks up at Hux, and the intensity of his gaze is almost enough to make Hux step back. "Just tell me what to do."

Hux stands his ground. His mouth is tight, and he takes a breath before he speaks. "No," he says carefully.

Something wild crosses Kylo's face, and he's on his feet in a second. "Tell me what to do!"

Hux begins to seriously contemplate keeping that aforementioned rifle under his desk. Ignoring Kylo's outburst, he settles back into his seat and starts work on marking the papers again, while Kylo slams the cabinet drawer and tosses the files on the ground. The boy slumps onto his knees facing the wall and does nothing for far too long, and Hux is touching on suspicion when Kylo suddenly growls and turns back to face him. "Why won't you _tell_ me?"

Hux closes his eyes and breathes out. "You must learn for yourself. It's a valuable skill." He doesn't wait for Kylo to protest before he tells him, "I won't talk again until you're busy filing."

It takes Kylo fifty nine minutes to work out Hux's filing system. Hux is quietly pleased when he does, and relaxes in his seat a little. The next half an hour is relatively good—as good as it can be for Hux when he's trapped in a stuffy classroom with his least favourite little insect. With his instinctive contempt for anyone with authority, Hux wonders how Ren is ever going to make it through his life.

"I do hope this ends up teaching you not to be so disrespectful," Hux says after a while, "Because nobody told me it would cost me my afternoon."

"Hardly like you'd have anything else to do with it," Kylo mutters.

Hux stiffens. "Excuse me?"

Kylo eyes him with a look Hux swears he's seen before on the face of an attack dog or a rabid beast. Something like anxiety twists in his stomach for a moment, and he presses into it like a wound, and gives Kylo a sharp look. Blessedly, the boy backs down.

"You need to learn your place," Hux snaps at him.

Kylo grits his teeth, his jawline stiff, and stands up. His eyes draw to the clock on the wall, and Hux puts down his pen neatly—it's been precisely an hour and a half. He dismisses Kylo, who stalks out without closing the cabinet drawers or picking up the files strewn over the floor, and leaves, but only after he makes sure the front half of his classroom no longer looks like it was ransacked by an animal.

—

Hux doesn't exactly enjoy his weekdays teaching, but he prefers them to weekends. Weekends remind him that he has nothing.

He sits at his desk and reads the newspaper, irons his clothes, and occasionally glances out the window to the end of the road, where there are people on the streets. He rarely lets himself look for long. Seeing other people living their lives reminds him of his isolation, and of what he has lost, and of what he will never have.

—

On Monday, Phasma is busy and Hux eats his undernutritious excuse for a lunch alone. Maria Wood doesn't talk, and the rest of the students bicker and giggle for the length of every single lesson, but blessedly, Kylo is 'absent'. Hux knows a good teacher would be bothered that one of their students couldn't care to attend, but Kylo is a misery to be around, and Hux is at the end of his tether.

He gives the class a comprehension exercise that he can leave them with while he disconnects, and watches the school grounds out the window for the next hour. A leaf falling from a tree is the most interesting thing he sees (or perhaps the fly bumping against the glass earns that title?) until the largest animal he has ever seen in person prowls right up to the window, its eyes fixed hard on him.

The creature is something between a wild cat and a hound, with matted black fur and a disturbing mass of muscle stretched over its bones. One leg is grotesquely torn, angling outwards in a way that could only mean that it was broken by force. Hux feels a terrible twisting in his gut. The beast bares its teeth like it's ready to lunge, and Hux is suddenly on his feet, eyes wide, mouth stumbling over an incomprehensible "What—" as the monster locks eyes with him.

A few students look up at him, waiting for him to say something, but he can't seem to manage even a sentence when faced with all of their bemused expressions. He looks away from the class and out the window again, at the empty school grounds, the fallen leaf, and the fly, and something drops in his stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

The wedding is the following Sunday, and Hux is equally grateful for having something to do with his weekend and for the something being so very _ordinary._ Normalcy is imperative if he is to ever spin his mind back into peak condition. Ever since Monday, there has been something... wrong about him.

He works particularly hard to appear focused and official as usual that week, but he feels as if he has lost his concentration and _preciseness_ —the essence of his being.

He finds little difficulty in picking out something smart to wear for the wedding. On looking, he realises that he owns nothing remotely casual, and that essentially every outfit he owns would be appropriate. Eventually, he settles on his military uniform: he wears it every Friday and Saturday, and irons it every Sunday morning, and wearing it to the wedding on Sunday afternoon will slide perfectly into his schedule, as long as he stays in his nightclothes for an hour extra to iron and starch the uniform in the morning.

Phasma looks unfortunately striking—Hux would go so far as to call her absolutely statuesque—when he meets her outside her grandmother's home, where she has been living since her mother's passing, since her father works almost obsessively. The warm light spilling from the living room window gives her a sort of glow at the edges, and her dress complements her skin tone rather impressively, and Hux thinks that the two of them would make a brilliant power couple, if only he was remotely interested in romance. He tells her so, and she tells him: "Shut up with your darn apple butter, Hux. I'm too young for you."

He raises his eyebrows and laughs, and she does too. They don't laugh much together, but on the rare instances that they do, it's rather nice, Hux thinks.

Mingling is inescapable at an event like this, but Hux is prepared. Each time someone prods too far, he steers the topic back to his time in the military—guests are always very impressed (and _distracted_ ) by his display of badges and his uniform.

Many of the younger women politely congratulate Phasma on her new love, only allowing themselves to whisper excitedly when her back is turned. Clearly, Phasma does not stand for that type of thing. Phasma is wise.

Hux dreads the approaching small talk for every second he is at the dinner. It's not that he finds it difficult—it's that others feel difficult talking to him. He seats himself beside Phasma at the end of the table, an assuredly safe position, but then he comes across a place card reading a name that is most certainly not his own _(Felicia Berry),_ and is forced to vacate the seat immediately by a startlingly flustered Phasma (who is in fact unutterably concerned with table manners).

Eventually, they find their seats, and the dinner begins, and there are speeches and small talk and Hux is very unimpressed with all of it. The woman sitting beside him asks Hux a lot of questions about his life, and is almost shuddering with glee when she finds out he's a teacher. "Oh, you like children?" she asks.

"Not particularly," Hux tells her. "I just take pride in being in control. Discipline is my passion."

The woman backs down rather quickly then, and Phasma elbows him. "Stop it," she says. "I don't know why you have to be so rude to all the women that like you."

Hux finishes his forkful of peas and raises an eyebrow. "I don't like them."

Phasma smiles a little at that. She can understand. They are kindred spirits. "You don't have to be quite so terrible, though."

"I didn't earn my title as General being nice."

 _I didn't earn it at all,_ he thinks.

—

When dinner is finished, Hux escapes the crowd before he can get caught in all the talk of family, before he is introduced to everybody and he can never turn back. He considers fleeing back to his house (with dignity, of course), but remembers Phasma, and discovers that he does have a shred of compassion left when he waits two hours for her to be ready to leave.

Phasma is oddly cheerful when Hux leaves her at her grandmother's house, and he begins to suspect that she does not hate her father at all. Perhaps he misjudged her character. (No one is ever really like him. He is too terrible for God to bear to replicate.)

The next morning's paper is bleak but informative, and Hux reads every single word. He irons all of his clothes, including outfits he already ironed earlier in the week, and reorganises his perfectly organised cupboards. He doesn't really have any belongings—other than a dusty old game of monopoly and a few antique Civil War figurines his fanger seemed to be particularly fond of—and he begins to think that perhaps he should go about getting a few. Books, of course, do not count. Books are not personal possessions, but the essence of one's being.

It's a civilian thing he knows he should be doing, shopping for things other than food, and he's aware that if he ever wants to adjust he's got to start now, or he's damned for good. All the stores are closed on account of it being a Sunday, but Hux tells himself that he will go and get himself some sort of useless item that will hopefully collect sentimental value over the years tomorrow. (Or perhaps next weekend.)

His plans are conveniently cancelled when he returns to work, however. Mr Graves informs him that Ren (the entire school has taken to calling the boy that lately, as opposed to Kylo, with the widespread intention of seeming less personal) has landed himself in detention every day of the week save for Sunday, and Hux will be the one to take him. Hux was not aware that it was possible to delegate detentions to other teachers; Mr Graves tells him that it is a particular privilege that he has earned and Hux has not.

Ren glowers at Hux when he walks into his classroom on Monday afternoon (at four on the dot this time, and no earlier), ratty hair pushed back behind his ears, and a satchel over his shoulder instead of the desperately fraying backpack that usually accompanies him. Hux greets him with etiquette, and looks at him with disdain.

"You're to file these this time," Hux tells the him, pushing a few completed papers towards him to go in the cabinet.

Ren scowls at the floor. "I did filing last time I was here."

"Don't talk back. File, quietly."

Ren doesn't take to the task immediately, but once he does, he doesn't make too much of a fuss. Hux decides that he must have been personally blessed by God today. He marks papers and finishes every scrap of work he has left in the blissful silence, and it's only when he moves onto half hearted lesson planning that Ren starts being himself again.

"What's your name?"

Hux doesn't look up from his neat, college ruled notebook to speak. "Hux."

Ren tosses a piece of paper into the air and catches it swiftly before it flutters to the other side of the room. "No, what's your Christian name?" He looks between the drawers for a moment, then stuffs the booklet in the lower drawer.

"I don't think it's any of your business, _Ben_."

All things about Hux are classified to the students, and even the majority of the school's staff. Not a single student knows his first name, and most are doubtful that he even has one.

"I bet it's Gertrude," Ren says thoughtfully, and Hux glares at him. "I'm going to call you Gertrude."

"You will call me sir," Hux snaps, staring hard down at his notebook, "And you won't dally about it."

When Hux looks up a moment later, Ren is giving him that goddamn insolent look again. It seems to Hux that the Ren's whole face is just naturally rude. He stares at Hux, refusing to back down, and Hux stares back. It's a while before Hux realises that he's not going to get anywhere glaring at the boy.

The rest of the detention goes predictably terribly: Ren is spiteful, Hux stands his ground and thinks of horrible ways the boy would be taught a lesson if he were in the military with Hux. Hux retires to his father's house (he cannot call it his home, it will never be his own), and goes about his evening tasks. When he's taking the garbage out to the end of the road, at exactly 6pm like he always does, he catches Mrs Gutierrez from a few doors down, who tells him of the frightening white creature she saw at the park that disappeared before she could show a policeman.

Hux presses her about it, something fearful flickering in his chest, growing as she describes it like an enormous hound that ran faster than a cheetah. "It was probably just a big shepherd," he reassures her despite how disturbed he feels. "You know how people are nowadays, letting their dogs run wild with no regard for the public."

Mrs Gutierrez nods hesitantly. "We ought to be leashing dogs bigger than terriers."

"A smart idea," Hux agrees, and ushers his neighbour gently back to her home so he can return to his scheduled activities for the evening. He realises once he gets back to his house that scheduled for tonight is nothing.

Hux begins to enjoy being alone with his thoughts less and less every day.

He reorganises his cupboards again, and turns all the lights on in the big house despite being aware of the blatant inefficiency of doing so, just to burn the darkness out of his head. For no particular reason, he begins to doubt whether he really had that conversation with Mrs Gutierrez. Perhaps his mind fabricated it. He slumps into the chair by the empty fireplace, and presses his hand to his forehead and feels himself sinking further and further. He isn't sure what he's sinking into.

Hux is losing something, something more than he has already lost, which he didn't realise was even a possibility. It's gradual, but he feels like he's headed for a short drop not far from now.

Fear is not something General Hux is well acquainted with. He senses that that may be changing soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit, i just love brackets, don't i


	4. Chapter 4

Hux wakes up in the middle of the night again to a horrible thud outside his window. He sits up rigidly, his skin too hot like he'd had a nightmare he couldn't remember. The window is within reach of his bed, and he carefully parts the shades to look outside. The street is empty, and all the lights in the houses down the lane are switched off. There's little out of place—until he notices his car, almost out of view, and the enormous dent on the hood, and the thing causing it: a bloody deer carcass.  
  
The smell of copper is in the air again, and Hux shudders as he pulls his dressing gown over his shoulders and ties the cord. Absently, he steps out of bed, and goes where his tired legs take him, down the long hallway adjacent to his room. The house is cold, but his skin still burns and prickles, and he begins to wonder if this is a night terror. He used to have night terrors as a child, and the nuns at the orphanage never did a particularly good job of comforting him, so he created his own methods of dealing with them. He breathes deeply, and pushes his hands into his pockets, grasping at the fabric and the lint just to have something to hold onto to stop his hands from shaking.  
  
When he reaches the living room, he begins to wonder why he'd thought it would be a good idea to get up when there's not much he can do about the situation. It's not like he can heave a hundred pound animal off his car in the pitch black night.

He sinks into an armchair and tries to stop himself shivering. He could light a fire, he thinks. But there's something about the idea of drawing attention to the fact that he's awake that pokes hard at the little ball of fear in his stomach, and he decides firmly against it.  
  
He sits tight in the big armchair, and pictures, in detail, how the course of the day might go tomorrow. It's reassuring. He'll write up those new notes on the board, the children will bicker and laugh among each other, and no one will step out of line. Maybe Ren will be absent, and Hux won't have to stay behind to take his detention. On the other hand—perhaps it would be better if Hux were to stay at school for as long as possible, in case of any incidents happening at the house again. Wolves, it must be, that left that deer on his car. Wolves about.  
  
—  
  
Ren is not, in fact, absent the next day. He's as present as ever, loud and rude, and with a great big gash down his stomach that he keeps showing around to everybody.  
  
"When you've finished showing yourself off," Hux says when the bell rings, "There's a lesson I'd really rather get on with."  
  
"Sorry, sir," Ren drawls, tilting his head back.  
  
_What's his game?_ Hux thinks. The boy's never apologised before, even in the smug way he's testing out now. Hux stands, and starts neatly copying out his notes onto the blackboard. "Today we're going to be studying some of Thomas Hardy's works."  
  
He barely listens to himself as he talks, but it's all routine, and the words flow tidily out of his mouth the way he likes them whether he's concentrating or not. Subtly, he watches Ren, and for once, he doesn't see Ren glaring at him in return. Perhaps he's preoccupied with something. Most likely he's thinking about that wound on his stomach, and how he got it, or at least how he's telling everyone he got it—presumably a boastful tale of manliness involving a big fight, a pretty lady and a shiny car.  
  
In reality, Hux supposes that Ren probably thoughtlessly provoked somebody who happened to have a weapon on hand. He doesn't seem at all opposed to getting himself into terrible situations. The boy would probably poke a tiger with a stick just for the sake of it, given the opportunity.  
  
Tonight's detention is the least eventful so far: Ren hardly speaks, and actually does as Hux tells him. It's practically like he's a normal child, Hux thinks. Then he almost laughs at the hysterical sentiment.  
  
Phasma passes by the classroom about halfway through the detention, telling Hux that she'd had some work to catch up on and thought she'd check on him. Ren glances up at her, but he doesn't speak, and then—perhaps it's Hux's mind playing tricks on him, or perhaps it's the lack of sleep, but he swears that Phasma and Ren exchange a _look,_ one of those looks that tells so much if you only know what to look for. Hux does not know what to look for; he just stares at Phasma indignantly. She doesn't seem to pick up on his bemusement and irritation when she tears her gaze away from Ren and back to him, where it's supposed to be. She's _his_ friend—no, his counterpart, acquaintance—and Ren shouldn't be stealing her focus. He's just a mere child, with a sharp tongue and authority issues.  
  
Hux is cross with Phasma for the rest of the night. He thinks, in the morning, he'll confront her about—what is it he's angry about? She _looked_ at Ren. She looked at Ren with something other than disgust. There has to be something wrong. He'll... talk to her, at least, tomorrow.  
  
The files are all stowed away in Hux's cabinet quite soon, and Ren is resigned to sitting at one of the desks at the front of the room (Hux won't let him sit at the back anymore, it only causes problems and an insufferable amount of complaining) and doing nothing for the rest of the detention. Hux realises, to his dismay, that he has run out of things to mark around five minutes later. He scratches his nose and looks out the window at the grey sky, and the sun creeping behind the clouds. It's getting dark early. "How's that gash of yours?" he asks Ren, to pass the time. There's still a mountainous half an hour of this detention left.  
  
"Fine," Ren says, and coughs unenthusiastically (Hux is aware that it would be particularly disconcerting if Ren were to start coughing enthusiastically as an alternative, but it's the only word he can think of that fits).  
  
Hux crosses his legs, and smooths the paper on his desk. "You mind if I take a look at it? You might need to go to the nurse."  
  
An alarmed expression graces Ren's face for a moment, and Hux feels privileged to have witnessed something so rare. He only wishes he had a camera to capture it—he'd keep the photograph on his mantle, and smile as he thought of Ren's moment of weakness every time he passed it. "No," Ren says, and Hux looks up with a frown. "You can't see."  
  
"Why?" Hux asks. He's the boy's teacher, he does what he sees fit. "Bit of a change of heart, isn't it, considering how much you were showing it off this morning?"  
  
Ren scowls, and kicks at the leg of his desk.  
  
"For goodness sake," Hux says. "It could be infected, you must let someone examine it. At least say you'll go to the nurse, or have your parents take you to a doctor."  
  
"No," Ren says, his frown darker than ever.  
  
"If you must be so difficult." Hux stands up, and makes his way across the classroom to the door. "I'll call them, and tell them I insist."  
  
Ren stumbles out of his chair, and stares at Hux, half frozen between Hux and the door. "You can't," he demands.  
  
Hux narrows his eyes. "Show me."  
  
With a scowl, Ren grasps the hem of his shirt, then looks up at Hux, and pulls the shirt up his stomach so Hux can see—nothing at all. The cut is gone, and only a faint mark remains, just a thin whitish-pink line like an old scar.  
  
There's no questioning whether the cut had been real or not, it's clear that there had been a laceration—but Hux is looking at the result of weeks, maybe months of healing. Ren's fingers twitch, and he drops his shirt, and Hux feels himself struggle with what to put on his face when he meets Ren's eyes again, grappling for words and failing completely. It isn't the first time it's happened this week, and Hux is deeply disappointed in himself. "What on earth?" he manages, possibly an entire minute later. He waits for Ren to speak, but he just looks at Hux, the moment dragging on for an eternity. "Go," Hux says, "Go wash that off." He prays that his guess is right, and that the mark is just some modern trick. It's the logical explanation.  
  
"I can't," Ren says. He scrubs at the mark and shows Hux: no difference has been made except for a slight reddening of the skin. The scar stays.  
  
"That wound earlier," Hux says quietly. "That was pretend, wasn't it?" He can't let this silly trick topple him, especially with how off-course he's been feeling lately.  
  
Ren doesn't smile like it's a trick, though. He looks rather anxious, under the usual layer of cool. "No, that was. It was real. It just healed."  
  
Hux's desperate desire to believe in the most logical answer doesn't do much to steady his voice. "Go home." He doesn't think he can stand this situation any longer. There's too much he can't think and can't say, and too much that he wants to. He closes his eyes, and presses the back of his hand to his face, and when he's managed to level his breathing, Ren is gone, chair tucked in and things taken with him, and it's pitch black outside.


	5. Chapter 5

Hux takes the next day off. Having never missed a lesson before, it's quite a step, but he knows he can't fare another day so close to Ren when his mind is in such a state.

He goes out into the town, intending to take a look in one of the stores that sell things other than food and acquire some sort of novelty item, just for the sake of having a possession of his own, but somehow, his feet take him past the shops and to the cemetery by the old church. His father's grave lies in the corner of the grounds, beside the iron gate. The headstone is slightly crooked, and Hux stares at it as he stands, barely stirring, against the wind. The inscription makes no mention of the dead man’s fatherhood or any of his family, it simply states: _'Brendol Hux, skilled businessman and hunter. Rest in peace'_. On first seeing it, Hux had wondered if this really was his father—surely he would have made mention of his family on his gravestone, at least his son, who was an infant at the time he died. But judging by his own character, Hux is sure now that lying under that headstone is his father.

From all he's read in the old papers at the library and his mother's diary that the nuns kept for him, he knows what his father is like, and rather despises him. Once upon a time, Hux had actually been interested in learning about his parents, but that interest soon petered out when he came to learn that his father had been a wife-beating drunk and a blatant racist, and his mother had killed herself without any thought for her young child.

Hux himself is British, raised in an orphanage in England where his family had originally lived. His father had divorced his mother, Laura, shortly after Hux had been born, and left for America, where he ended up getting killed in a hunting accident less than a year before Laura's death. The only evidence that existed of Hux ever having a family was the property left to him by his father that he would inherit when he came of age. Hux always wondered why his father would leave him such a great house when he seemed not to care for him at all—guilt was the conclusion he came to in the end: guilt is a common motivation for the quietly bigoted man.

A twig snaps and Hux cannot discern which direction the sound came from. He pulls his coat tighter around his shoulders. The sweltering haze of last week is over, but it is isn't too cold, and the wind is gentle—he feels insecure, especially in a place of the dead, after the strange things that have happened to him. A bird whistles, and for a moment Hux thinks he recognises the tune from somewhere else, but he can't pinpoint where, and settles down on his knees on the grass. It makes a soft crackling sound against his suit trousers, and he can feel a little of the dampness from the earth touching at his knees.

"Hello," Hux says to the gravestone. He isn't expecting it to talk back. In fact, he isn't expecting anything at all. He didn't think it would be likely that he would even have the courage to speak, and now that he has, he doesn't know how to continue.

Talking to dead people like they're still around, it's something the most ignorant of people do, clinging to the belief that their loved one may still be somehow aware of them despite knowing for a fact that it's impossible. It's rather a selfish thing to do, Hux thinks. The epitome of weakness. Yet here he is.

"I don't really know..." he says, "What you'd be like if you were around now." He casts his eyes down and thumbs at a stalk of dead grass. It's not really green anymore, just sort of yellowed, and brown at the edges, like it's been sheltered from the sun for too long. "But I can't assume you would have changed much. Especially judging by how my character has... persevered for so long." Hux's words taste bitter on his tongue, and he realises only now how much he hates that he is like this. So _cold_. No matter, the thought of changing in the slightest still repulses him.

"I'm sure you'd be ashamed of the way I'm letting all these silly incidents affect me," Hux says. "Heaven knows why I'm even considering such illogical things." He hasn't yet let himself try to determine what may be happening, out of fear or just overwhelming confusion. He supposes that he should at least begin to put the pieces together into some sort of silhouette of a guess, but he is tired of logic, and he is tired of being the person that he is.

There are flowers at some of the other graves, in various withered stages of death. A breeze goes by, and a single flower in a bunch is torn away by the stem, and rolls across the grass, bumping against the uneven ground. Hux glances along its path; it stills at an old headstone, and he startles when he sees a beast stood beside it. It looks different to the one he saw in the school grounds, it has no fur, just a strange sort of dark bluish skin with a brown mottling at the neck. The skin looks slick and textured, almost like scales but in much odder, more irregular shapes—but the way it moves is identical, there's no mistaking that’s it’s the same creature as before. Hux glares at the thing. He won't have it run away again.

There's a scattering of people on the other side of the gates behind Hux. Can they see the creature from where they are? He wonders, if they can: will they approach him to help, will they do anything about it? Or will they blame the image on a strange state of mind, like he should be doing, but can't seem to bring himself to? Hux pleads (and he doesn't plead often) that somebody else is seeing what he is. Not so that they can help—just so that he can feel validated.

As if it's sensed his thoughts, the creature backs into the shelter of the tangled foliage growing on the side wall of the church, disguising its odd skin with the dappled shadows of the leaves. Hux stands, brushing off his knees carefully, and advances a careful few steps towards it. He considers what exactly he is going to do when he is within arm's length of it. It's rather disastrous to think about the fact that he hasn't a plan yet, but he's hoping with a very large portion of his being that one comes to mind before the thing is close enough to eat him, or whatever it is it intends to do.

Despite the urgency of his current situation, Hux is baffled to notice that the dampness of his knees is bothering him. He glances down at his ruined pants in quiet dismay, and then up at the beast, which cocks its head to the side, and seems to follow with its eyes where Hux had been looking at his knees. Its shoulders relax a little, and Hux reaches out a hand, as slowly as he can bear. It's an enormously ill thought out move, but a little part of him is insisting that the animal won't bite, and for once Hux thinks he'll listen to that little nudge to break out of what's logical. He edges closer, still in a crouch, and the creature makes a low, rumbling growl—and it's terrible, it's ridiculous, but it sounds to Hux like a dare.

"Come on, then," Hux says in a subdued tone. "Eat me." There's calm in his voice. He hasn't consciously decided anything, but the part of his mind he cannot control no longer cares whether this beast is real or not: it just wants him to do something mad.

The creature's eyes pull away from his knees, and two lumps either side of its head that could possibly be ears flatten. A soft, grumbly sound comes from the thing's throat. Hux's hand remains outstretched. He lets out a breath, and his hand drops slightly.

"Sir?" Hux breaks focus at the sound of a woman's voice behind him, and the second his head turns in the slightest, the creature bolts at impossible speed. Hux cannot even tell which direction it went in. His shoulders slump, and it comes to his attention how tightly wound he was.

He turns fully with an exhale he refuses to class as a sigh. "Yes, ma'am?"

The woman is standing just outside the gates. "Are you alright there, sir?" She's just on the younger side of middle aged, holding a number of shopping bags from the non-grocery type stores Hux had originally intended to visit today. Her husband must be nearby, he deduces.

"All well and good," Hux says sweetly. "Thought I saw a nice rare bird."

The woman smiles a rosy smile. "That's alright, then. I'll be on my way!" She totters off to a man wearing a bowler hat stood just beside a nearby store. Hux wonders what a pristine little life she must live to be able to take his mocking sugariness as ordinary.

He doesn't say goodbye to his father when he leaves the cemetery. His shoes make soft sounds just on the edge of crunching as they tread through the grass, and he passes through the gates without looking back for the creature. The flower head that had broken from the bunch is stuck to his shoe, and he nudges it off, and tramples it again as he leaves.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the atrociously long wait. this chapter is longer than usual to make up for it!!

The car on Hux's drive is still dented and mostly dysfunctional, although he did manage to remove the deer carcass from its bonnet discreetly a few hours before Mrs Gutierrez noticed and enquired as to how exactly a large deer ended up on top of his automobile. He supposes he'll bring it to the shop at the weekend. Taking another day for himself away from work would be pushing this self-care thing a little too far for his liking.

On the first morning break after Hux returns to school, Phasma brings him a flask of soup, and concurs that this does not make them friends before he can even speak. She loiters about his classroom during her free period until lunch, casually demonstrating her brilliant knowledge of modern literature and assisting the children when Hux becomes too distracted. Hux knows that he is lucky to have her.

He doesn't see another one of those beasts for three days, nor does he see Ren for the same stretch of time, and it's the most peaceful interval he has experienced possibly since childhood. When the weekend rolls around, he feels incredibly capable all of a sudden, and drives his barely functional car to the motor garage as early as he knows it will be open. He parks in the furthest forward spot available: the place is entirely empty. A mechanic is lounging about in a windowed office, throwing grapes vaguely in the direction of his mouth and missing every time, and Hux nods at him as he climbs out of the door. There's a distinctive smell of oil and metal in the air, lingering, hanging there heavily, and it takes a moment, but Hux recognises it—it's the smell always lingering around Ren, it's  _metal_. Iron and rust. Perhaps the boy works in a garage on the weekends. Hux hopes he isn't employed at this one.

Hux seats himself in the waiting room, in one of the worn, mock-leather chairs coloured a shade of red that is neither pinkish nor yellowish but still somewhat light, and eyes the magazines on the table with disdain. He briefly considers picking one up and leafing through it just for the sake of looking down on every article inside, but he thinks twice. Instead, he examines the building around him. The structure of the place is odd, and there is a sense that something is amiss, but Hux cannot pinpoint what it might be. Maybe it's just the feeling that being somewhere unusual and public early in the morning brings: a strange sense of unreality that he can never manage to achieve in another setting.

Dark cracks spread like claws from the corners of the metal beams stretched over the ceiling, and smudges of oil lie uselessly on the floor. For a place whose main purpose is fixing things, it looks rather unsafe.

Through the glass of the waiting room, Hux watches with disinterest as the mechanic begins to work, prodding at machines and things. A large motor runs with a loud thrumming sound that sits in Hux's stomach, and he closes his eyes and waits.

When he comes back to himself, his fingers are cold, even his  _bones_  feel cold, and the thrumming noise is gone. Instead, there is overwhelming silence. He cannot find words to make sense of how he feels. All he can discern is that it is not normal.

The shop is dark, and Hux can just about see his car, but it doesn't appear to have been fixed particularly well, and the mechanic isn't around. "Sam?" Was that his name? For the life of him, Hux cannot remember. He stands up, and takes a few steps into the empty garage. "Samuel?"

A reply comes several moments later. "Hello?" Another few seconds, and it's accompanied by a face. "Oh, you're still here?" The mechanic sounds surprised, and Hux becomes suspicious. It isn't as if it was difficult to see him through the waiting room window. "I thought you'd have gone home."

Hux checks his watch, then stuffs his freezing hands into his suit pockets. No wonder it's cold, it's nearing midnight. "When will you be finished fixing my car?" he asks.

"It'll take a tad more work," the mechanic says. "You can take it home tonight, but we'll need it back early tomorrow."

"Isn't tomorrow Sunday?" Hux catches the young man's name sewn onto his pocket. He'd been right the first time, it was Sam. "Surely you'd be closed. I could have sworn that's what the sign said—"

"No, the boss is letting me work some extra," Sam insists. "First thing Sunday, I'll be here for sure."

Hux nods, but he still feels uneasy. The mechanic smiles and turns around to start fiddling with an odd machine Hux can't name, and Hux supposes that that means he should go. He takes a closer look at his car, and sinks into the driver's seat with a sigh at the knowledge that probably no work has been done on it all day. He considers complaining about his Saturday being wasted, but closes his mouth on the words when he realises that he most likely wouldn't have done anything remotely interesting with it anyway.

The roads are empty on his way back. Oranato isn't the sort of place where people go out after dark. The town... transforms at night. There's a hum in the air, a faint sense of danger. Things happened, before Hux arrived, and nobody forgot.

Hux ignores the pressing sensation in the back of his head, and drives with his window open and his headlights on bright. It's raining, but it's not particularly chilly out, and Hux likes the feel of the wind as it rushes through the window. The conical beams of his headlights illuminate the raindrops that fall ahead of him, glinting a wet shade of white, and—and then, a man, in the middle of the road—no, a _creature_ stands there on its hind legs, its spine bending impossibly as the rain soaks through its skin. Its vertebrae snap one by one in a sequence that lasts less than a second, and black water drains down its legs onto the ground.

Hux pulls sharply at the wheel and steps on the brakes hard, frozen as the car jolts to a stop and his body lurches forward like a crash dummy. As soon as the vehicle stops, however, he snaps into action, forcing the car door open faster than it can go, and running frantically for the beast.

But there is  _nothing_. Not a trace of the creature remains. Hux looks in all the directions the thing could have run, but the road and the corn fields that surround it are empty. He grits his teeth and his mouth twists into a snarl as he kicks at the damp concrete, abandoning his collected manner in the dark street. The rain dribbles through his hair, softening the pomade he uses to keep it in place. He drops his head and his wet hair presses against the side of his face, the anger in the bottom of his stomach burning into an ache through all of him, rotten like a bad tooth. He sucks in a breath of stiff, damp air, and gets back into the car, and his foot is just pressing on the gas pedal when his headlights illuminate the fallen tree on the road not too far ahead of him.

A black crack sears down the middle of the trunk, splitting the tree in two.  _Lightning,_ Hux rations, but he can't imagine he slept through a thunderstorm in the garage waiting room with the door open, and it certainly hadn't been there on his way over. Rain slides over the splintered body of the tree, drowning the singed wood. He watches it for a few moments, a frown on his face and his mouth turned down at the sides.

With a shuddering growl, he starts the engine again, and takes the car hone by the long route. Not five minutes into his journey, he drives by a man walking in the dead grass by the side of the road. The figure carries no bags, and wears only a shirt and worn out slacks, and the rain falls hard onto his shoulders, plastering his shirt to his back, and his hair to his neck. Hux feels something akin to empathy, or perhaps pity, and slows the car. The man turns, wary, and Hux startles for a second at the face he is met with. It's Ren, a boy and not a man, and Hux's vague compassion dissolves instantly into hostility.

Ren's expression matches Hux's in shock for a moment. Ren breaks out of it when a sheet of rain slams down on his neck from the tree above though, and the muscles in his face tense into a frown. Hux feels a quiet satisfaction at Ren's discomfort, and rolls up his window, lifting his head haughtily.

Through the closed window Ren shouts something, and raps on the glass. His large nose is wrinkled in discomfort and his mouth is pitifully twisted, but Hux has no desire to let him in. Kylo Ren is an insect, and one doesn't generally let insects in their car.

The rain falls heavier by the minute, and Hux watches the drops hit the grounder harder and harder. He does not drive away. He takes a leisurely breath, and looks out the window again as he lets it out. Ren's shoulders are so tensed they're almost up by his ears. Hux rolls down the window a crack. "Yes?"

"Can you give me a ride?" Ren demands, shivering furiously in the wind. He's soaked to the bone, and since he isn't actively doing anything to disrupt Hux's mood, Hux decides on doing the humane thing rather than letting Ren suffer. He huffs, and mutters something about God that his father would most likely be horrifically ashamed of, and leans over to open the passenger door.

Ren hurries around the front of the car, his steps heavy and clumsy, and drops his large body into the seat. His wet clothes squelch against the leather, and he breathes rapidly and shallowly. This is perhaps the only thing he may have in common with Hux: it appears he dislikes the rain. Then again, on consideration, Hux dislikes a wide variety of things, and there was bound to be an overlapping somewhere. Ren slams the door, and Hux is grateful for the noise, because he knows the silence that will follow will be abysmally uncomfortable.

"Where am I taking you?" Hux asks.

Ren rubs his face clumsily. "What?"

Hux eyes him. "I said, where am I taking you?"

"You can just drop me somewhere by the church," Ren says, slouching further into the seat. "I live near there, it's close enough."

"All right."

The last blessed non conversational word has been uttered. The end is nigh. Hux hopes that even Ren won't sink so low as small talk. He starts driving again, and stares purposefully at the road. Just having Ren in his peripheral vision makes him uncomfortable, especially squirming around in his seat like a difficult child. He wonders if his parents make him sit in the back seat. They must do, unless somehow they've grown tolerant of this absolutely infuriating behaviour—that is a possibility, after all. If you live in a pigsty for long enough, eventually you'll become tolerant of the smell of putrid pig faeces and dirt.

Hux can still hear Ren breathing as they drive down the dark suburban roads. He opens his window further to drown out the irritating sound, but then Ren starts  _talking_ , and Hux knows he is ruined. "Why are you out so late?" Ren asks.

"I might ask the same to you."

Ren's only response to that is a shrug, and within a second Hux is already beyond incensed. It's beyond him how a child can be so rude to his superiors. Perhaps it's his upbringing? Hux looks back on the pigsty theory. Maybe his parents grew so used to his terrible behaviour that they just gave up on disciplining him. Or perhaps Ren is just inherently stupid. "Don't be simple," he snaps at Ren. "Use your words."

"I don't have to answer to you," Ren says.

Hux smiles slightly at the road. "Yes, you do."

Ren frowns, and kicks at the floor of the car. Hux can't imagine him being any more childlike than this. "Then you have to tell me what _you_ were doing," Ren announces, triumphant as if he's actually come up with something remotely clever.

It's almost impossible for Hux to swallow his laugh. "I'm an adult," he says. "I'm allowed to have a private life."

"And I'm not?" Ren asks immediately.

"You are a child," Hux states, as if that will explain everything.

"Stop saying that. I'm nearly a grownup, and I will be next year, so you may as well treat me like one."

Hux has never seen such inanity. Every word out of Ren's mouth is a disaster. "I can't even dignify that with a response."

Ren's frown stays in place but his mouth turns up into a smile. "You just did, though."

Hux sucks on his teeth and glares at the dimly lit road in an attempt to keep his eyes away from Ren's face. A part of him is compelled to look, and he can't quite comprehend why. It's probably spite, he reasons. He must want to stare at Ren to spite him.

The church is large and looming in the weak light, its grey walls saturated in a strange kind of green, and he pulls the car to a halt in front of it. The rain is lighter now, but heavy enough to rustle the leaves when it hits them, and the movement in the bushes reminds Hux of his experience with the creature in the graveyard. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. Ren doesn't quite seem to have noticed that they've come to a stop. "We're here," Hux prompts.

Ren doesn't reply for a moment, too absorbed in the rain or the leaves or whatever small thing has stolen his entire focus. He's still breathing heavily. Hux is beginning to assume that that's the norm for Ren, and everything he does is all or nothing: breathing like a rhino with phlegm or not making a sound at all depending on which way he's leaning that day. "Okay," Ren says shortly, and pushes the door open and steps out into the empty road. He doesn't say thank you or goodbye, and although Hux can hardly have expected manners from him, he feels a little taken aback.

The sounds of Ren's steps in the dirt are loud and distinct, and Hux sits and listens to them until they fade away. He doesn't look up from the steering wheel. When he starts the car again, hardly having noticed turning the engine off in the first place, he wonders why that little part of him had expected such a polite gesture.  _'Thank you'._  He's not even sure the words are in Ren's vocabulary. He finds himself shaking his head at his own naivety. That little incident with the tree must have shaken up the logic centre of his brain, he thinks. That's the only explanation.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little warning for hux using the word insane and being an all around ass to phasma

The house is chilly and empty, and Hux goes straight to his room when he returns home from the mechanic. He presses a cool hand to his forehead and sits on the bed with a bottle of that new medicine Tylenol for his headache—the one that seems to have been coming and going since he first saw that creature. Maybe he's just overthinking things, though.

No matter, he can't seem to get Ren out of his head, and he's sure that must be exacerbating his symptoms. Even with a neutral expression, Ren's face is so offensive to Hux it leaves him consumed with anger. Well, not exactly anger, but some unpleasant emotion he can't put a name to—and he's an English teacher. He tips out a couple of the pills and swallows them dry, shrugging his coat off as he does so. He's still very damp all over from the rain, and he knows that what he needs is a good hot shower and a strong coffee, but he really doesn't have the motivation to do anything but peel off his wet clothes and pull on his pyjamas. Even then, he's not sure he'll have the energy to pull the covers over himself after he's changed. He hadn't realised he was so ridiculously tired: his limbs are heavy, his eyes are aching and it feels like he has to make an effort just to keep breathing.

The sheets are cool when he slides into bed, and it's not exactly comfortable since his skin is still a little damp and soft from the rain, but his head is hot and his pillow is the good kind of cold and he presses the side of his face into it. It takes longer than he expected to sleep: he can't seem to get his mind to slow. Ordinarily he could just will his thoughts to stop and they would, but he seems to have lost that mechanical synchronicity with his subconscious.

Eventually he does fall under, and he sleeps for hours and hours. Even when he wakes up, his thoughts are so clouded and disorganised that he can't even command himself to sit up. When he finally fully comes back to himself, it's past noon, and he scrambles to dress fast enough to leave so he can get to the shop before that mechanic goes home.

The place is empty when he arrives, and the machine the mechanic had been working on yesterday has vanished. In its place is a dusty square of ground, a lighter shade of grey than the rest of the floor. Hux looks around the windowed office, but there doesn't seem to be anyone in there either. At the back of the place is a large garage door, probably concealing some sort of storage room, and Hux scans the frame for a mechanism to open it. When he does manage to get the door open and lay eyes on the empty room with dead bits of motors stacked about, he knows that Sam must have left, and that he's most likely overstepping his bounds by nosing around. And he's not normally the curious type at all, but there's that buzz in the air again. Something’s out of place.

Hux takes another careful step into the back room, purposefully aware of his what's in peripheral vision. For the second time in a long while, he feels he could admit that he's scared. The room is deceptively large; all the metal pieces piled around incite a feeling of claustrophobia, but every step gives way to a new point of view.

When Hux finally sees it, at first he doesn't really register that anything is wrong. Sam is there, behind a haphazard stack of wing mirrors, crouching down and examining that machine he'd been working with last night. He must have dragged the thing all the way in here. There's a puddle of oil around him, and a foul smell coming from the machine, and Hux thinks Sam must have broken something rather important.

"Apologies for my lateness," Hux says. Sam ignores him. Hux clears his throat. "When can you start work on my car again?"

Sam doesn't reply again, and it's around then that Hux notices that he isn't moving at all, and that he isn't actually crouching. He hopes he's just seeing things, but no—Sam's legs are crushed under the great piece of machinery, and he isn't examining anything at all, his face is merely resting on a metal panel. Hux feels everything shift around him in that horrible way that it does when one realises that something truly bad has happened, and he almost wants to leave before he can confirm the bleak suspicions he has. He doesn't, though, and he walks up to Sam. And he knows, and now he cannot un-know. Sam is very dead.

Hux is cold and severe, but he isn't quite emotionless (although he is halfway there). He might like to make out that he is invincible, but death disturbs him almost as much as it does anyone else. He stares at the body of the young man he'd talked to just yesterday and tries to calm his confused mind enough to be able to think in more than just jumbled words. Once he has managed to quiet his stumbling thoughts, the (very logical) panic sets in: he was the last customer to see Sam, and the first to find his body. Everything will lead to him. It would appear an accident to an unbiased perspective, but the British government were extremely cautious with him and the American law enforcement surely must have gotten word of it by now too.

To Hux’s dismay, he realises that the puddle on the floor his eyes had carelessly skimmed past isn't in fact, oil, but blood, and the bad smell... dear god, it's blood too. Hux dares himself to take a step closer, willing himself not to make a sound, and stares at the body, his mind piecing together all the ways this could possibly have happened. Perhaps the mechanic tried to lift the machine to reposition it, and inadvertently switched it on, catching him by surprise—and by his collar. Hux can't really tell the specifics. He knows for sure that it must have been an accident, though, it can't be anything more sinister than that, no matter what the governments will make of it. He looks down at the puddle, and snatches his foot away when he sees that the tip of his shoe is sticky with blood, and his heart bangs against his ribcage. Once he's recovered and scuffed the blood off his shoe, he catches the name stitched onto the pocket of the jumpsuit again.  _Sam,_ it reads, and his face twists up. Death is so much more unnerving when there's a name to go with it.

There's little else to do but leave; Hux knows he can't call the an ambulance or the police. They know things about him, and he _cannot_ be connected to this, as innocuous as it appears. He leaves the back room, and looks around for the customer list, the appointment book, anything that might link him to the scene, then rubs out his name until there's only a faint indentation left, and scribbles a fake name in its place. His car is still dented and half broken, but it moves, and that's enough for Hux. He drives home the long route, avoiding the fallen tree, and locks himself in his bedroom as soon as he arrives at his house.

His scrambled head can't conjure up any ideas of what to do to take his mind off the unfortunately rational anxiousness over being tied to this man's death. He settles for reading one of the books he's only read ten times before, and sinks down on his bed with a compilation of Edgar Allen Poe's works. His eyes flicker over the words of _The Raven_ until he actually starts to hear a knocking at his door, and forces himself to get out of his bedroom and make some tea... but down in the kitchen he starts remembering things he hadn't wanted to remember, and the mug goes cold before he can even take a sip.

Hux does not remember going to bed. In fact, he doesn't remember anything else about what happened after he left the mechanic's when he wakes up on Monday. He's already dressed, but he changes anyway for the sake of it—and because he can't have anyone seeing wrinkles in his shirt lest they'll doubt his austerity. He only has two pairs of shoes, and his other pair are still damp from Saturday's rainstorm, but the dry pair have blood on the toes, so he wears the damp ones anyway. And he'd thought things were bad before. He'd laugh at himself if he were only a tad less collected.

Everything is very normal at school, and Hux is painfully aware of it, and can't help but feel that things should be different. His brain has been thrown off the tracks, but nothing has changed here, and there's something about that that confuses a small part of him, although he is loath to admit it. He wants something to stimulate him, to busy his mind so that he can dull his buzzing thoughts. When he sees Phasma at break he's grateful, of course, but quietly he's more grateful that next period Kylo Ren will be in his classroom, lollygagging and spouting overconfident nonsense and taking up all of Hux's energy. For once he looks forward to being exhausted by Ren's idiocy.

Ren is even more overstimulated than usual. He gets out of his seat more than six times over the course of the lesson, despite Hux's stringent rules about remaining in one's chair, shouts across the class, and doesn't finish a single piece of work. Hux smacks his knuckles with a ruler and gives him the sharpest look he can, but it seems to make little difference, and by the end of the lesson Hux is beyond infuriated. At least the irritation is more tolerable than absolute panic though, he decides.

When the bell finally rings and Hux dismisses the class, he learns, to his bewilderment, that this is a double period, and that he must have got his timetable mixed up in his head. He's more ashamed than he has probably ever been, and holds the class up through the remaining period with much less enthusiasm than before.

Once the students are settled with a new analytical exercise he thought up off the top of his head, he sinks back into his chair like an old man, and sits watching the floor for much of the rest of the hour. Distracting himself suddenly seems to matter a lot less than getting some rest. His shoes are taking up all of his attention though, and he can't seem to stop thinking about how uncomfortable they are. They still haven't been given a chance to dry. Discreetly, he takes them off under the desk to save himself from the discomfort of cold wet feet for just a few minutes, but _blast_ it, Kylo spots him and gives him a weird frown. To Hux's puzzlement, he doesn't point it out to the class, but just carries on with his work.

Forty minutes later, the class ends (he's sure this time), and Hux catches Ren's eyes on him as he walks out to go to lunch. He stares back, for a moment, but then Ren looks away and hunches his shoulders up, and Hux watches the other students go instead. When the last student has left, Hux suddenly gets the urge to lie on the floor, and possibly go to sleep. He might as well not have slept a wink last night for how restless he was, and how terribly unrefreshed he feels now. The impulse to lie down is lingering in his head, and faintly, he recognises that it's not a good idea, and finds himself doing it anyway.

Several minutes later Phasma appears above his head, and he comes back to himself from the vague stupor he'd fallen into. "Hello," he says candidly.

"Hello," Phasma says, with a little frown. "Are you supposed to be down there?"

Hux shifts, but doesn't sit up. "I thought I was in need of some rest."

Phasma nods, but she looks like she's withholding something. "I might be overstepping my bounds," she says after a pause, "But are you all right?"

With a flicker of concern, Hux rolls onto his side so he doesn't have to look her in the face. Phasma is not usually bothered about what bounds she is overstepping.

"You've been acting rather strange."

Hux gives a sigh, and it feel heavy in his chest lying down. He slumps onto his back again. From his position the floor, Phasma's face looks a little different, somehow warped. Hux decides that if he raises his gaze just a few inches upwards he could probably see up her skirt. If he was interested, he thinks, she would probably indulge him. But alas, it still holds no appeal. "I have been acting rather strange, haven't I?" he says.

"Yes," Phasma agrees tentatively. "That is what I just said."

Hux hauls himself up so he's resting on his elbows. "I'm terribly sorry," he says, rubbing at his brow with one hand. "Things are going on."

Perhaps he could tell her, about the creatures, at least. He lets himself consider it: it probably wouldn't have any particularly permanent consequences, especially in comparison to explaining why he's so afraid of being incarcerated for an accidental death he had nothing to do with.

"I keep," he manages. Phasma inclines her head and puts on her best listening face. She's aware that he'll know it's forced, but she probably knows he needs a little extra encouragement right now. "I keep seeing these creatures," he forces out. He can't make himself look up, and just stares at the ugly carpet, and at his shoes, sitting by the leg of his desk. "I think - " He sighs. Phasma is probably still giving him the Listening Look. "I'm not imagining things. They're real, and I think they're a danger."

Phasma doesn't reply, and when Hux looks up, to his surprise, her listening face is gone, replaced with a conflicted expression. There's something else there too that Hux can't put his finger on, and it makes him wonder with a brief flicker of hope if she might have seen the creatures too. "You're under a lot of stress," she says, and her face relaxes into a blank slate.

Something cold drops in Hux's chest like a stone. Before Phasma can continue, he sits up and says to her, "You know something. Don't you?" She has to. Why else would she be acting so strange?

"I know that you haven't been right lately, and this could be - "

"You know about the creatures. You  _do."_ Hux glares at her, and the look he gets back is so intense he almost turns away.

"I don't know  _anything,"_  Phasma says harshly. "We're not in danger. You're hallucinating, there's no other explanation."

Hux straightens up and his jaw sharpens. "I am your superior, woman. I'm not insane, you're hysterical. Leave me be."

He knows that he's saying some rather unforgivable things, but it will hardly change anything, in the bigger picture. He doesn't have friends; it's not something fate will allow him. Phasma gives him a sad frown, and walks out, the door closing behind her.

Hux looks at the ceiling. This would be a perfect time, he thinks, for one of the beasts to show up. He's emotional enough, for once, that he thinks he could capture it just from the pure force of how much he wants to. Nothing appears though, and when he looks out the window, the grounds are just full of teenagers, sitting at benches and eating their lunches and chatting. Maria Wood is surrounded by friends, and he gives a little smile at that. She's a good student. Then his eyes catch on Ren. He's alone, apparently kicked off the benches, sitting on the floor. His ungracefully large legs are crossed, and his shoulders are hunched over so it's difficult to see his face. He doesn't seem to have a lunch, just an apple. Hux feels that vague sympathy he'd felt in the car when he spotted Ren outside on his way back from the mechanic.

He'd thought that Ren had been popular for his strength and boisterousness—that is what teens are impressed by these days, isn't it?—but it appears that it was only superficial admiration that Hux had been witnessing. Ren looks rather sad and alone. It should make Hux feel better, to see Ren suffering, but this time he's feeling something else.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a great day so I just wanted to wish everybody reading this a really nice day too. thanks for reading my dumb old fic.

Hux feels as if his day is moving in slow motion. It's the way every day has been since he found that mechanic dead at the shop. Everything is a haze of anxiousness and overanalysing. It takes what feels like years for the students to clear out of the classroom at the end of final period, and when they're finally gone, Hux finds himself actually stumbling in his hurry to get home. He's not sure what he actually has such a great need to do once he is at his house—possibly he will lie down and try to die; that's all he can think of. When he reaches his car, however, he realises that he has forgotten his _shoes_. He’s taken to discreetly removing them under his desk near the end of the day, since he feels so terribly uncomfortable all the time and it seems to alleviate the feeling slightly. It may have something to do with the blood on the toes of his main pair, it may not.  
  
He stands looking at his socks for several moments before he can muster up the willpower to go back inside. Now that he's aware of it, his feet do feel very cold, and the soles of his socks are covered in dirt and little bits of cement. Perhaps he really is losing his mind, to forget his goddamned shoes.  
  
The school has emptied rather quickly, and Hux doesn't bump into any children or other teachers on his way back to his classroom. It's quiet, and there's quite a pleasant atmosphere about. He wishes school was always like this. When he reaches the classroom though, he gets the shock of his life—or, well, perhaps not, considering that he did stumble upon a dead body in a puddle of blood yesterday, not to mention that his army years were filled with horrors. Ren is sitting in his desk chair, cross legged, lounging about like the place is his.  
  
"You forgot your shoes," Ren says when his eyes meet with Hux's.  
  
Hux shoots a pointed look his way and bends to put his loafers back on. "That's beside the point. What are you doing in my classroom?"  
  
"Detention," Ren explains. Then he gives a little frown. "You hadn't forgotten, had you?" There's a note of teasing in his voice, and a muscle in Hux's jaw slips. He cannot remember giving Ren a detention at all, but he can't stand for this right now.

"Get out," Hux says. "Just go home. I don't have time for you tonight."

Ren's brow knits together further, and Hux suspects that he's taking it personally. "Why?" he demands.

"Because," Hux says, seething, "You're a miserable little brat and I need a lie down." He scrubs his hands over his face and begins to lament his words immediately. He expects Ren to laugh at his little slip in professionalism, but just like with the shoe incident, he stays quiet, and gives him that weird look again.

Several moments pass by, and Hux stares at his shoes, while Ren continues to watch him. "Do you want an apple?" Ren offers arbitrarily.

Hux looks up, incredulous, as Ren fishes an apple out of his satchel. He narrows his eyes. "Let me see inside that bag," he says.

Ren offers up the bag, and Hux leans forward and peers inside with a downward curve of his lips. The schoolbag is filled with apples, and cushioning them are two crumpled pairs of dark slacks and a shirt. Not a single book. "You're a strange boy, Kylo Ren," Hux finds himself saying.

Ren looks rather flattered, and Hux almost laughs in disbelief. Only Ren could take that as a compliment.

"Would you care to tell me why there isn't a single book in there?" Hux asks.

A shrug. "I keep them at school."

"Well, then." It's not a very sound defence, but Hux isn't in the mood to press. "Why the apples?"

Now Ren looks caught off guard. He looks like he's thinking very hard before he says, "I live near an orchard."

"I didn't know there was an orchard near the church."

Ren uncrosses his legs and stands up. His pants are creased, and his face looks slightly askew. "Well there is," he states with pointed finality. "When am I supposed to serve my time if you're going home now?" He looks frustrated, as always.

Hux's eyebrow raises a little at his likening of the school to a prison. It's hardly like Hux forces him to show up, even when he ought to. "We can do it tomorrow," he says.

That urgency is back in Ren's eyes. He's angry. Hux would feel scornful, if he had enough energy. The boy needs to learn to stop letting his emotions manifest so close to the surface. "I don't have time tomorrow, I only have time now!" Ren says.

"I need to go home," is the only thing Hux can muster up as a response. His voice comes out lower than he would like. "I have," he says tentatively, "Ironing to do."

Ren's face goes through a series of indeterminable expressions. "I don't have anywhere to be. I could help you. It could serve as my detention."

Well, that certainly wasn't what Hux was expecting, but he supposes he can't really expect anything from Ren at all anymore. The world has become too unpredictable for Hux's plain ordered mind. "Help me... iron?" he says.

Ren gives a nod, and Hux looks at him for a long while before concluding, in quiet horror, that he doesn't appear to be joking. What a day. "That means you'll have to be in my car again," he states with narrowed eyes. It's getting rapidly greyer outside, and his silent anxiety is rising. It would be better, he supposes reluctantly, not to be alone, even if it is Ren he'll be lumped with. He picks up his bag again. "Just keep your feet off the seats."

—

It's terribly strange for Hux to have his work and home collide, especially as it's his least favourite two aspects of both converging: Ren and ironing. He can't bring himself to lie down with a guest in the house, the protocol for when a visitor is present is too ingrained in him. Instead, he sits in the armchair, forces himself to lean back because it's hardly polite but lord, he needs it, and pours himself a glass of brandy from the coffee table.

Ren shrugs off his leather jacket and that damned scarf he wears every day, and Hux is absently surprised to notice how broad he looks. Of course he'd known in theory that he was strong. It's all he's ever heard the little ankle biters in his class talk about in regard to Ren. But it's odd to see it with his own eyes. Ren's shirt is a plain white button-up, like he often wears, but ordinarily it is under a jacket, and now Hux can see how defined the muscles in his arms are through the fabric as he unfolds the ironing board. He blinks several times to clear his head. He's never really paid much attention to anyone's shoulders before. They're hardly a point of interest.

"My shirts are over there." He gestures to the neat pile of unironed white dress shirts. His military uniform lies at the bottom of the pile, but he'll be damned if he lets a seventeen year old touch that. "Leave the uniform." Ren does.

The brandy tastes strong and warm, and the burn is a fair distraction from Ren undoing his top button, which sparks infuriation in Hux for reasons he cannot fathom. Laziness, he supposes. He closes his eyes, and thinks about the golden years of his life—the ones he can't remember, when he was a very small child. His recollections of daily life before the age of six are faint, and there's lots of room for him to pretend that it was better than what's probable.

But Ren interrupts his restfulness with his loud, grating voice, asking, "What church do you go to?" Of all the tedious, pseudo-conversational questions in the world. He hadn't even mentioned anything even vaguely relating to church.

Now that he thinks about it, it's been a long while since he's attended church. He presumes that God hates him for it, not to mention all the other mortal sins he's most likely committed without giving much thought. At first he despised himself for staying home every Sunday, having been so influenced by nuns throughout his young life, but the isolation that's come as a result is far too rewarding for him to feel guilt anymore. "I don't go to church," he replies without opening his eyes. He exhales and prepares for some inane drilled-in comment about sin and Hell, as is customary from any child raised in these parts, but it doesn't come. His eyes open, and he glances at Ren, who has stilled from putting a shirt into the clean laundry basket.

Hux sips his brandy. "You don't have to go, you know," he says, looking up once more. "It isn't the law." Ren looks startled beyond belief. His eyes are big, and fixed on Hux.

The picture before Hux is rather strange. Ren looks bizarrely out of place in front of Hux's dusty bookshelf and grand fireplace, cheeks red and feet too far apart, all clumsy and large and ignorant. It's becoming more and more clear that his parents don't give a damn about how stupid their son is, to not have told him that devout Christianity isn't actually the default template for every human, and that variations do exist.

"It's God's law, isn't it?" Ren says. "You'll go to hell."

"There are so many religions out there," Hux says, swirling his drink in his tumbler. "How do you know that the one you've been brought up with is the right one?" It strikes Hux that he's probably opening Ren's eyes for the first time to a world of things he's never even considered (and doesn't really have the capacity to). Well, somebody's got to. Not everybody will realise it on their own. Not everybody is like him.

The expression on Ren's face is quite a funny one. All his features are slightly scrunched up, as if he has to work with every single muscle in his body to comprehend this information.

"You're going to burn my shirt," Hux comments.

Ren looks briefly angry, and lifts up the iron to show that the shirt is perfectly unburned, then the expression slides away into bewilderment. There isn't actually a shirt on the board: they're all folded and ironed in the basket.

Hux gives a wry smile, and finishes off his brandy. "There's half an hour of your detention left, what would you like to spend it doing? I'll give you the choice: cleaning or making my dinner." The empty tumbler clinks a high note against the brandy bottle when Hux sets it down on the table. "I'm tired, and I need one or the other done by six."

Ren runs a hand through his hair. "How do you like chicken?"

—

The chicken is awful and the vegetables are overcooked, but Hux will be damned if he makes another entire meal. He sits at the table, chewing on the rubbery meat and squashy vegetables, while Ren sits on the dining chair opposite him with his legs drawn up by his chin and his feet resting on the edge of the seat, watching the clock and willing it to reach exactly six o'clock so that he can leave. Hux could offer Ren some of the food, he supposes—a taste of his own medicine—but that would mean one more plate to wash up, and he already has to do the dusting before he goes to bed. He takes a glance up at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room; the minute hand has reached the twelve, it lets out a chime, and he puts down his silverware. "You're dismissed," he tells Ren.

Ren lets out a big sigh, and stands to leave. His jacket and scarf are still slung across the couch, but he doesn't bother putting them back on, and just bunches them up in his arms.

"I take it you can show yourself out."

Without any response, Ren does exactly that, but not before glancing at Hux over his shoulder for a brief moment. Hux glances too, for reasons he can't find an explanation for, and Ren turns to face frontwards quickly and hunches his shoulders up, then walks out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be on holiday for a week with no wifi tomorrow, but when i come back I'm posting a double length chapter I saved for this occasion! so you have some horrible kylo and hux to look forward to then.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! here is the promised double length chapter to make up for the giant wait. (i still can't believe i actually followed through with that instead of being lazy and splitting it in half. youre welcome)

It seems to have become a pattern, as of every night after the incident at the mechanic's, for it to take Hux an unreasonable amount of time to fall asleep. Tonight is no different, and it's beginning to touch on his nerves. After lying awake in the dark for several hours, he turns the lights on again, and wanders about the house for a while, touching the ever-dust-collecting ornaments on the mantle lightly and wondering where his father had bought them and why. They don't seem the sort of trinkets he would have been interested in—little hand painted ceramic handbells, a delicate pot pourri dish filled with dried flowers, and a tiny glass mouse. Perhaps Brendol was more layered and less straightforward than he'd thought. Or, more reasonably, perhaps he had another woman before he died that Hux would never know about.

Gradually, Hux's thoughts become looser and more disconnected, and he settles back into his room in bed in the hope that he'll be able to get to sleep this time. Eventually he falls under, and he dreams of strange winds twisting around mossy trees, humming in whispery tones. Air gets trapped in his throat, and he struggles to breathe. He's covered entirely in a filmy layer, sort of like satin, wet. It's stretching and heavy but silken to touch.

The film twists as he struggles, and it catches his legs and restricts them and he stumbles onto his knees, his head spinning hard as the wind sings softer. The lull of the music becomes a quiet hissing sound like white noise, and Hux can feel the buzz in his chest, setting his teeth on edge. He wakes, suddenly, to find himself on the floor, tangled in his sheets. With a gruff sound he tosses the blankets back onto the bed, and hauls himself onto his feet to get the light. The second the room is illuminated, he sees the creature in the corner of his room.

Hux does not make a noise, but his heart is palpitating, and with each beat it feels like a fist is squeezing his heart. The beast is breathing low and steady, and Hux's options run through his head in a flash, each as unappealing as the last. Running yields no positives except the slim chance that it will preserve his life, and going for the attack is too stupid to even consider. He'd wanted to catch the creature but he hadn't really thought about what he'd do once he was up close. The fact that it's in his very bedroom may give him a small advantage, but he's still having trouble trying to process that it managed get into his house.

"Have you been following me?" he asks in a voice he barely recognises as his own, for all its shaking.

There is no explanation for why he might think that talking the creature will hold any benefits. He tries to find some reason to excuse the idiotic move he just made, although no intelligent being is around to see it, but he can't. In for a penny, he thinks.

"I'm Hux."

The creature cocks his head and growls softly, then settles into a sitting position. It watches him as he raises his hands and holds them up, palms displayed, fingers apart, and seems to register that he's expressing that he isn't a threat. He won't make any bold moves, not this time. For now, he'll just settle for learning anything he can. "Why am I special, then?" he asks.

He isn't anticipating an answer, but he isn't really expecting the creature to lumber over to him and start sniffing his chest either. It's unsettling, to watch the thing he'd seen act so feral before behave like a domesticated animal. He keeps his hands raised, and the creature presses its muzzle into his palm; its nose is wet in a way that's reminiscent of a dog. Perhaps these things aren't as much of a danger as Hux had thought. Testing, he lowers his free hand to rest on the creature's head, and starts to stroke the tangled fur. The response is startling. The creature leaps backward as if Hux had struck it, and its eyes flash bright with the reflection of Hux's bedroom light. And Hux sees something. In those two wild eyes, past the slit shaped pupils and streaked purple irises, there's something intelligent. Far under the surface there's humanity, acknowledgement, realisation.

Outside, it's begun to rain. It patters against the window and the sound presses Hux, makes him feel like there are hundreds of sets of fingers tapping on his window pane. The beast appears similarly on edge. It makes a strange sound, and lifts a front limb—Hux can't call it a paw, the thing is just too mutated. No matter how it acts it still looks like a monster, with its strange eyes embedded in deep sockets; its oddly bent legs, all angled slightly outwards as if they're fractured; and its twisted back. It flinches as a gust of wind spatters a heavy layer of rain against the window, and Hux reaches forward slowly with his open hands in a motion that could almost be described as placating if it were directed at a human.

The creature bolts. Hux can't even see which direction it runs in. His bedroom door is only open a little, but it's the only route the beast could have taken, and Hux expects that with its gifts, that creature could probably escape from a solid concrete cell without much difficulty, so he can hardly doubt it. He doesn't follow it. He knows it's futile.

It's unexpectedly easier to fall asleep after that. Hux tells himself that maybe the whole incident was just a dream and he's already asleep, and then before he knows it it's morning and he's slept through the night.

He hasn't much of an idea of what time it is, or what day, which is unlike him, but everything about him is unlike him nowadays. There is no Hux anymore. There's just a man with his body who doesn't really know what to do.

His clothes are laid out as usual, and his shirt feels crisp and smooth as he buttons it up, freshly ironed. He has Ren to thank for that, he supposes. For someone so brutish, he irons well. It's not a very interesting trait, but Hux appreciates it.

He catches the time on the grandfather clock just before he leaves the house. It's past eleven. Ordinarily he wakes up automatically before seven on weekdays, this can't have happened. But it _has_. The sun is high in the sky when he walks outside, and he sees people littering the streets down the end of the road as he hurriedly adjusts his tie and steps into the car. Nobody pays him much attention when he arrives with his jacket on and his briefcase in hand, probably because some teachers with afternoon shifts might arrive at this time every day, but one teacher gives him a frown on his way down the corridor, because he knows that it's halfway through one of Hux's lessons.

Hux finds himself needing a moment to breathe before he enters the classroom. It's his space, but there is a substitute standing at the front where he normally is, writing things on the blackboard from a lesson plan he's never seen, and he feels as if he's invading. He touches the handle, and opens the door, and suddenly thirty pairs of eyes are on him. Something terrible fills him up as he walks across the classroom to his desk in front of all the children. He's _ashamed_. They're all going to know the truth: General Hux is a mess.

The substitute concludes his explanation of the subtle social commentary in Thomas Hardy's _Convergence of the Twain_ while Hux neatly moves everything on his desk an inch or so away from the centre to make a nice work space. Then he turns to look at Hux with something accusing in his eyes.

"Terribly sorry that you had to be called in on such short notice," Hux says to him, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "I had trouble with my auto."

The man inclines his head, but he's clearly unconvinced. "I take it you'll want to finish the lesson from here on out?"

"If that's all right," Hux says loftily. The students chatter quietly among themselves, and he glances among them. "They've behaved, I presume?"

"Well enough. You ought to discipline that one more thoroughly, though," the supply says with a nod in the direction of Olivers. "Good day." With an officious raise of his eyebrows, he turns and leaves, taking his lesson plan with him.

Odd, Hux thinks. He'd have thought that Ren would be the troublemaker. He would have been in class this morning. Perhaps he's absent again, although the substitute should have mentioned that. He takes a seat at his desk and rests his hands in the space he created a moment ago. "Well then," he says. "The rest of this lesson is empty, since there isn't time to do anything we were supposed to. There's only a quarter of an hour left, let's have a little English Q&A."

Olivers raises a hand. "Why are your pants on backwards?" he asks. "—Sir," he has the audacity to add, in his particularly obnoxious drawl.

Hux doesn't look down. He may be a little off-kilter, but he isn't about to fall into that trap. "Now now," he says dryly. "That's hardly English related." He eyes the class for someone to call on. And there is Maria, right at the front. "Wood. Anything interesting on your mind that you'd like to share? Any questions?"

Maria gives a little mischievous smile. She glances out the window. "Your car is completely creamed, sir. How in hell's bells did you manage to wreck it that badly?"

A few laughs surface, and Hux raises his eyebrows. "That language isn't quite appropriate for school, Maria. But yes, it is some quite impressive damage. Let's just say I had an encounter with an animal I'd rather not meet again." The half-lie is enough to stop them asking further and keep them guessing, and it isn't as if it's a complete untruth. The incident with the deer most likely was the monster's fault, but saying that he never wanted to see the thing again wouldn't quite be accurate. "Did anyone have any thoughts on Thomas Hardy's poem they didn't get to discuss?" Hux asks, gently steering the class back to a more academia-related topic.

Jackson raises a hand. "I might be wrong," he says, "But I thought that the three end rhymes in each verse mighta been meant to imitate the tide, in the way that they keep coming back predictably. It sure ties in with the theme."

"Very good," Hux says. "Any thoughts on the meter?"

The lesson continues with the same predictability as Hardy's rhyming stanzas, and the further into the day it gets, the more he feels like he's going through the motions again, and falling back into place. Afternoon break sees him taking his lunch outside for once, and although the air is thick with heat once more it's almost pleasant to spend his hour sat at the benches, bathed in the brief summer sun and idly watching the students go about their ways. American young people seem to have a world of different customs to American adults, and it's fascinating to Hux. The social aspects of their micro-society are hugely intriguing, but he finds that the linguistics don't attract his attention even half as much. Slang is the language of the lazy. Ridiculous terms he'll never understand the need for. There are perfectly adequate synonyms in the place of that nonsense.

It's a peaceful afternoon, and Hux's anxiety is fading. The final lessons of the day are easy to run through, and the students are manageable enough, their chatter about trends and modern things tolerable for once. When he returns home, he settles into his chair with a cup of tea and a newspaper, and watches the birds out the window from under the curtains. The sun has just gone down below the horizon, and the clouds are tinted a mix of pale orange and blue, their edges so soft and misty that they blend with the sky. He leans back in his chair and sips his tea. It's a slow news day, but he finds the story on divorced parents more interesting than he'd expected it would be. He wonders if Ren's parents are divorced. That could account for at least some of his behaviour.

The sound of an engine on his private drive disturbs his thoughts. He peers out the window again to see a police car pulling up in front of his house, and sets down his tea slowly. Oh, Lord. There's nothing he can do: he's clearly home, his dented car is parked in the driveway and the the lights are all on. In fact, the two officers can probably see him through the gap in the curtains as they walk up the porch.

The doorbell rings, a tinny trill, and Hux touches his mouth and considers. There's clearly only one option though. He goes to the door, and opens it with a candidly surprised expression. "Good afternoon, officers. Is there a problem?"

The officers' faces are hard and serious, and tell nothing. Perhaps it's a routine neighbourhood check. Hux must give nothing away. The taller of the policemen turns to the right, reaching behind him, and for a frozen second Hux thinks he's pulling a gun, but instead he tugs Kylo Ren into view, and Hux loses his controlled facade. Ren's hair is tangled and full of leaves, and his shirt is torn with a streak of blood down the side. He stumbles as the officer pushes him onto the porch step, and stares hard at the ground. Hux opens his mouth slightly and then closes it.

"Your son was causing one hell of a scene at the park," the stouter officer says, straightening his belt. "Screaming at nothing, and throwin' around innocent plants."

The realisation is bewildering—they think he's Ren's _father_. Ren must have given them his address in the place of his own. The thought makes him feel odd. He's phenomenally surprised that he can pass for old enough to have a teenage child. Although he is aware that he looks particularly... _austere,_ he didn't think he could actually pass for middle aged, despite the fact that he's done enough living to have the same amount or life experience as a senior citizen.

"Looks like the boy's been in a fight too," the tall officer says, "But he won't talk." He frowns down at Ren and Hux realises that he should say something very soon, either apologise on Ren's behalf and wave the cops off, or tell the truth and risk further investigation.

The choice is not a difficult one. "Very sorry for the trouble," he says, resting his hand on Ren's shoulder. "I'll make sure to discipline him." Then he gives Ren a stern look, just for good measure, and nudges him into the house.

It appears he's fooled the officers. They tip their hats, and walk back to the police car. The cracking sound of a static radio escapes when they open the doors, then disappears when they shut them, and then they're driving away, and Hux stares after them for a few moments, his hand still on Ren's shoulder.

They're not like police officers Hux has known before. They looked at him as if he was an average person (for all they know, perhaps he is), rather than with that lingering stare filled with clashing suspicion and respect the officers back in Britain always had fixed on him. He guesses the British government isn't communicating with the American higher powers all that much now that the war's over. That means he's an innocent over here. No need for all of his panic.

(Although the fact of it is, there shouldn't have been any need for panic in the first place. The military is strictly forbidden to reveal the ghastly details of what their men have done for their country, but the Second Lieutenant in one of Hux's platoons had had qualms about him from the beginning, and had felt it necessary to inform the police force about Hux's particular tendencies when he was discharged. The police had watched over him like hawks, like _vultures,_ waiting for him to make a single wrong move so that they could do their heroic duty and put away that terrible man, war veteran or not. He'd thought they'd continue when he moved to his father's home in South Carolina, but evidently it's all over now that he's an American citizen.)

Hux leads Ren into the hall and shuts the front door behind them. "What's this about, then?" he asks, walking into the living room to see if his tea is worth saving. Ren follows, that perpetual furrow in his brow, but doesn't reply. Hux finds having him in his house again bizarre, but at least he's feeling far more sure of himself now and he'll be equipped to deal with whatever may be thrown at him

Without invitation, Ren sinks onto the couch, and starts picking the leaves out of his hair and dropping them on Hux's carpet. Clearly he was not raised by nuns, Hux thinks usefully as he sips his lukewarm tea—'Armitage, never take a seat before your host!', 'Rubbish goes in the bin and nowhere else! We're not wolves.'

Ren ceases his leaf-picking when he notices Hux's faint grimace. "Sorry," he says, brushing his dirty hands off on his knees. It sounds like he means it.

 _"'Sorry,'"_ Hux repeats under his breath. "My god, are you all right?"

Ren gives an insubstantial shrug, and Hux sits down next to him. He looks young like this, his lower lip slightly protruding, his expression for once not arrogant or deliberately rude at all.

Briefly, Hux tries to be tactful, putting on a pretend kind face, but then he gives up entirely. "Would doing some ironing cheer you up?" he asks. That coaxes a little smile out of Ren. It seems Hux's failure at comfort was an unorthodox success.

The tea is too far gone, Hux decides, when he takes another sip and has to wince. "I suppose you ought to clean yourself up before you go home."

Ren's face does something peculiar then, a sort of combination of a frown and something close to crying. "Yeah," he mumbles. That almost confirms issues with the parents.

"There are cloths and iodine in the bathroom cabinet." Hux nods in the direction of the bathroom, and Ren shuffles over there and returns with a more masked expression on his face and said items in his hands. He sits and starts trying to scrub at the cut on his side, holding his shirt up under his chin, and Hux shakes his head. "No—don't scrub it," he says, reaching out but not quite putting his hands on Ren. "You'll break the skin even more. You put the iodine on, and then you dab at it."

With wobbly hands, Ren uncaps the iodine and tips a liberal amount onto the cloth, but it spills all over his fingers. He scowls down at his wet hands and unskilfully tries to mop up the excess.

"Oh, for goodness sakes—let me," Hux says.

Unexpectedly, Ren gives completely, and hands him the cloth. Hux looks at him, but Ren won't meet his eyes, he just sits and holds his shirt out of the way of the injury with his damp hands. The cloth is soaked, but there's nowhere to wring it out so Hux has to hold his palm open to catch the drips as he dabs the edges of the wound. Every now and then, Ren makes a hiss and stifles the noise in his arm, but Hux doesn't look down on him for it. It's a nasty cut. His hands are naturally steady, but Ren is twitchy so he finds himself having to be overly cautious as he swipes the blood away. While he has an inkling that the cut will be completely healed by tomorrow, there's no harm in being careful.

The cut looks a lot shallower without all the blood around it, and Hux leans back with a sigh, dropping the cloth onto the table. He'll wipe it down later. He makes to fetch some bandages, and tells Ren so, but Ren stops him.

"I don't need them," Ren says indignantly.

Hux sighs, and sits back down. It's futile to argue, he knows that by now. "What were you doing out there?" he asks as he screws the top back in the iodine bottle, which is half empty now. Ren doesn't answer, and just starts prodding at the edges of the cut. Hux bats his hands away. " _Leave_ it."

"It's my cut, I'll do what I want," Ren says.

Hux shakes his head and picks up the cloth and the bottle to put them away, while Ren resumes poking at the healing scab. In the bathroom, the cabinet is open, and Hux's carefully organised things are in disarray. He puts them back in place, each bottle and tin an equal distance of half an inch apart, the taller items at the back and the loose bits and bobs at the front. He raises an eyebrow at the missing bottle of pills. The empty space stands out far too clearly to his order-attuned eyes. Codeine from his bad back several months ago, if he remembers correctly. They'll talk about that later, he thinks.

"Why were you out there?" he asks Ren again when he returns to the living room. He doesn't know why he wants to delve into this. It's probably what a teacher ought to do, but it's not what he would normally do—then again, he isn't Hux anymore, he's just a man with the same name. "Does it have something to do with your parents?"

"No," Ren insists. "I was just," he begins, but then abandons the sentiment. "It's nothing to do with my parents."

Hux looks down at Ren, sitting on the couch, toying with the hem of his tattered shirt and pointedly avoiding Hux's gaze. "What was it, then?" There's no reply, and still no eye contact, but Hux watches him, and he sees: under layer on layer of frustration, there is fear and guilt on his face. Perhaps Hux ought to talk to the principal. "Well," he says, brightening his eyes and changing the tune. He glances down at the ruined shirt. "That thing is rather beyond fixing. I have a shirt you could borrow, if you'd like."

Ren does look up now, and nods. Hux disappears up the stairs and returns with a crisp white button-up from his wardrobe. "It's nice," Ren says ineptly, probably in an attempt to be polite.

"It's one of the ones you ironed, actually," Hux says as he slides it off the hanger. He hands it to Ren, and turns away, idly glancing over the wall decorations his father must have put up that he never bothered to take down. There are several paintings of country forests and wild animals: a homage to his love of hunting, Hux gathers. He disapproves of the uncivilised hobby, but the paintings are rather picturesque nonetheless. There's a soft noise behind Hux as Ren drops one of the shirts and shuffles about trying to pick it up, and Hux quirks a half smile when he hears him swear under his breath. "Are you finished yet?" he asks.

"Nearly," Ren says, sounding muffled as if his head is halfway through the shirt. Christ, what's he doing? It's a _button up_. "Okay, I'm changed."

Hux turns back to face him, and pulls a face at the sight. The shirt hardly fits him, the arms are too small, and the collar looks like it could strangle him and it isn't even done up.

Ren squirms, tugging on the sleeves with a frown on his face. Understandable. "Stupid shirt," he mutters.

"It is, rather," Hux says, "Isn't it? Such a shame I have to wear it every day."

"It's just because I'm bigger than you." Ren glowers at him. "Must fit like a glove on you."

Hux smiles thinly. "Time to go, I think."

Ren's face falls at that. His fidgeting dies down, and he nods. "Yes. I should get home." He scoops his torn shirt into his arms, and heads towards the door, not making the mistake of turning back to look at Hux this time.

"You don't think I could have that bottle back before you leave though, do you?" Hux asks after him.

That makes Ren stop. He fumbles in his pockets and walks awkwardly back to Hux to hand back the pill bottle, shoulders high and face red with embarrassment.

"Very grateful," Hux says with a nod. "If you really want drugs, I'd be happy to testify to a psychiatrist that you're in desperate need of some Ritalin." He shakes the bottle and gives Ren a look. "You aren't to steal though."

That draws an indignant look from Ren. Then his face blanches. "You're not going to tell my parents about this, are you?"

Hux inclines his head forward. "No," he says decisively.

There are several moments where Ren hovers in the living room doorway, before he disappears down the hall, and Hux hears the front door open. Then, unexpectedly, "Thank you, sir." And then the door shuts.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoooo boy!! another long chapter ahead. well, not really by a lot of people's standards, but it's long for me. sorry it's so messy, my brain is tired lol

Ren's parents' number is not on record at the school.

Hux speaks to the principal, but Dr Terry dismisses the lack of information as untroubling and not an issue to be chased up—"It's a public school, General, it isn't like we can actually ask anything of them." He does manage to get Ren's address, through sparing use of his charming British wit and allegedly handsome smile (or so it's been described). It's quite an achievement to have made it past the main office's particularly tight lipped receptionist, but now that he has the information he's not sure he'll be able to walk up to the Solo family's door and actually ask why their son's mind is so irreparably mangled.

While he's at the office, he catches Phasma, talking breezily with one of the younger teachers, a woman he doesn't know the name of. He's unsure of whether Phasma sees him there or not: if she does, she doesn't acknowledge him. He can't blame her. But he's not going to blame himself either.

The classroom is loud and busy when Hux returns at the end of break. It seems that Olivers has created some hilarious spectacle by decorating his face with school supplies—and it appears he's done it so _very_ hilariously that all of the students have deemed it important enough to have left their seats to gawk at him. Hux deliberately clears his throat, and the students glance sheepishly at him and shuffle back to their desks. Olivers removes his blotting paper hat, but leaves the scissors' handles looped precariously around his ears and the inkpen lid up his nose, and smiles innocently up at Hux.

"Olivers," Hux says. "Take those off your face."

Olivers smiles contemptuously and garbles something incoherent. Hux's eyebrows drop even further in disapproval. The boy's mouth is full of goddamn chalk.

Hux wonders what he did to deserve such childish children in his class, what he did to bring this curse of insolence upon his students. (Yes, yes. That _thing_  half a decade ago. Well, never mind.) "You are supposed to be in secondary school," Hux says. "You are nearly an _adult_. Spit that out."

Olivers glances at his friends, and sniggers, as if he's looking down on Hux. "Sir, what's a 'secondary school'?" he asks, imitating Hux's accent. Ah, Hux understands the boy now. How dare Hux know a word that he doesn't?

"It means a high school," Hux sneers, equally scornfully. "Did nobody tell you that?"

With a roll of his eyes, Olivers takes the paper hat off his head, and tosses it onto the floor. "Fucking killjoy," he mumbles.

Hux gives him a sharp look. "What did you say?"

Olivers looks like a deer in the headlights. Reluctantly, he resigns himself to an apology. "Nothing. Sorry sir."

"Oh no." Hux brushes it off with a wave of his hand. "Ice it," he says in a mimicry of the teens' slang.

Some of the students giggle and glance among each other, impressed, and Hux's self esteem inflates. "Well then," he says. "It looks like we're all in a good mood today. Who's ready to analyse Freud?"

—

Hux stands outside the house at the edge of the woods, thinking. He stares at the address scrawled on the notepaper in his hand, and in his peripheral vision, a tree shakes and several pigeons scatter.

Is this really the most practical idea? Going straight to Ren's parents, who could be the very source of the problem? Perhaps social services may be the right path... but Hux knows how they treat children with unfit parents. He raps on the wood of the door. A disheveled looking man in a leather jacket answers. His resting face is smug and lazy, but the jacket sleeves are rolled up, and his farmer's tan speaks of hard work.

"Good afternoon," Hux says. "I'm a teacher from Oranato High School—your son is a student?"

"Yeah, what's the problem?" Ren's father says. He's chewing; Hux isn't sure what.

Hux clears his throat and straightens his back, striving to appear stoic and professional. "I'd like to speak to both of his parents. Is his mother home?"

Solo turns around, leaning against the door frame. "Leia!" he yells up the stairs.

A faint response of "Who is it?" comes from the second floor.

"Some guy from Ben's school. Wants to speak to ya."

"Oh!" There is some rustling, then a sturdy woman with her greying hair in a bun comes hurrying down the stairs. "It's about Ben? We're very worried about him."

Mr Solo scowls. _"You_ are."

The woman looks outraged but rather tired, as if what her husband said is not unexpected. "No, _we_ are!"

"Ben is absolutely fine. We don't need to coddle him, he's a grown boy."

"He's crying for attention!"

"Perhaps we should go inside," Hux says.

The house is surprisingly homey, simple but cosy, and a stark contrast from the cold environment was expecting. Hux looks over the pictures on the mantle as he follows the Solos to the living room: almost all of them feature a younger Kylo Ren smiling with his parents, or beside a dainty young lady with light hair and freckles—a sister? His girl? Hux can't tell, but it's clear the easy grins they share aren't just for the photograph.

Mrs Solo seats herself and her husband on the couch, and Hux on an armchair opposite them. Perhaps this was Ren's chair, Hux wonders, when the Solos used to sit down for family time. (He presumes that it isn't much of a regular occurrence anymore.)

"What is it that you wanted to talk about, Mister..." Mrs Solo trails off.

"General Hux," Hux says, as humbly as he can. It still surprises Mrs Solo, and even her husband looks fairly impressed. "A teacher expressed a few worries about your, son, and—" Hux frowns slightly and corrects his white lie. " _I_ was worried about your son. He's been displaying quite a concerning attitude towards authority lately."

Mrs Solo shuffles forward in her seat, looking worried. Mr Solo sighs and crosses his legs. "What's the problem?" he asks, gesturing irately. "It's not like he's actually done anything wrong. You said it yourself, it's just his attitude."

"In one instance he tried to steal some of my prescription pain medication," Hux says with a pointed look. "A police officer reported that he had some kind of hysterical episode in the park last week. He requested that I didn't mention it to you, but I think the end justifies the means."

At this point, a frown finds its way to Mr Solo's face, and he runs a hand through his hair. His wife looks rather close to tears.

"His schoolbag is full of clothes," Hux continues, "And what I presume is stolen food. Let me put this simply. Your son seems very troubled, and I don't mean to intrude, but I don't think that what you're currently doing is making any difference."

"We've tried all we can think of," Mrs Solo says. "Every time we get him to come home he runs away again, but the cops won't even intervene anymore because he always comes back."

Mr Solo shakes his head, and pats Mrs Solo's knee. "Look, the kid's uncontrollable. Maybe we should just let him do what he wants."

"I hardly think that's the answer," Hux says. "From what I've seen at school, I think what he needs is somebody to talk to. A friend."

"But he won't listen to a damn thing we say!" Mr Solo says, his voice loud. "That's why I think he needs to go his own way, rather than follow all this cock and bull about discipline."

"Ben has a lot of reckless energy," Hux says, carefully. "Perhaps if he had someone his own age to talk to, he would be able to vent some of it out—channel it in a more healthy way." Hux doesn't know why he's being so sincerely helpful. There is little he will gain from it, other than some peace of mind in lessons with Ren, and maybe some more free time if the detentions stop. He dreads to think: he hasn't become attached, has he? Attachments don't work out well for him. Yet here he is... _helping._

"Maybe we could talk to Luke," Mrs Solo says to Mr Solo. "He's sure to be over that unpleasantness by now."

"He better be," Mr Solo scoffs. "It's been near two years, I reckon."

"We could talk him into moving closer, letting Rey back into school. That would be good for the both of them."

Hux waits, patiently, for the Solos to elaborate. Rey. Is she the girlfriend? It would be a strange match, he thinks—Ren, all loud and angry, with that sweet, pleasant looking girl. Although no matter how wrong that idea seems to Hux, he really doesn't have any idea of what sort of girl would be _right_ for Ren.

"That's that, then," Mr Solo says. "We'll call up Luke, and get Rey back over here."

"Ben was always so close to his cousin, Rey, you see," Mrs Solo says to Hux, "But he had a little fight with his uncle a while ago, and Luke got very upset over it and pulled Rey out of school, moved out of state, too."

"Oh dear," Hux says. It's a bit of an understatement, really. It hardly sounds fair for a parent's nervous breakdown over a little fight with a nephew to manifest as his child losing their education and friends. Then again, to the Solos, a 'little fight' between family members could actually involve punching, and maybe some head trauma.

"Anyway, the two have them haven't seen each other since. Luke's still quite fussed about it." Mrs Solo smooths down her bun, and smiles a very motherly smile. Hux starts to feel a little nauseous, as seems to happen often when he sees mothers doing motherly things. "But it would be good for Ben to have his best friend back. It really did shatter him when Luke took her away, even though he'd never admit it."

"I'm sure it did. It ought to do him a lot of good to have her back," Hux says.

Mr Solo stretches out on the couch, scratching his head. "I don't know about all this," he drawls. "He might be a bad influence. Rey's such a nice girl."

"And our son isn't a nice boy?" Mrs Solo asks. "Of course he has his problems, but the general here is right. He needs a friend so terribly, Han."

"I suppose," Mr Solo says, pursing his lips. "You'll have to talk to him though. He's still mad at me for that thing I did way back at Easter—" Mr Solo cuts off his words and his smug smile disappears. His eyes are wide and he looks quite like Ren for a moment. "I didn't do anything at Easter," he says, in a lie so blatant it could rival even one of Ren's most stupid moments. Hux wonders suddenly. Ren's mother is so kind, and although his father has a far more lax approach to parenting, it does appear that he has an interest in what's best for his son, just a different idea of what it might be. What is it that made Ren so hard pressed to talk about them, and to go home? What could his motivations be for running away every other night? Perhaps Mr Solo is a mean drunk. Maybe his wife is far stricter behind closed doors.

Maybe Ren is just an idiot. That is the most probable situation here... but surely there's something else contributing.

"Well," Mrs Solo says. "This has been an enlightening chat. Thank you very much, General."

Hux nods, and rises from his seat. "Thank you for your time, Mrs Solo."

Mrs Solo's face tightens. "It's Ms Organa, actually. We're in the process of separating."

Hux shifts. "My sincerest apologies." Well, at least that gives him an immediate better understanding of Ren's mind.

He leaves the house walking briskly with a feeling of contentment about him, but slows when he reaches for the door of his automobile. Taking into account both Ren and his father's personalities, Ren is probably very unsatisfied with Mr Solo's parenting. Hux begins to wonder, with no small amount of dread, if Ren thinks of Hux as a replacement for his father. A more stable substitute for the impersonal Mr Solo? The thought leaves Hux feeling slightly ill.

If he were anyone else, he'd surely be flattered, but there's responsibility attached to it, and _Ren_ attached to it, and it just makes him feel strange.

He thinks about it at great length the whole journey home. It still unsettles him each time he considers it again. He's glad he'll be able to distract himself once he's at home with his chores and his students' work to mark, but something is out of place when he gets there. He goes to open the door and it's already unlocked. Hux always locks the door, out of both habit and ardent desire to be left alone. He steps inside, treading carefully, preparing himself for something sinister or supernatural, or another damned dead body, but instead he finds Ren with Phasma, sitting on his couch. Well, actually—that in itself could be a supernatural occurrence.

He seats himself on the armchair facing them. Both their heads lift. "How did you get in?" he asks, very calmly, considering everything.

"Picked the lock," Phasma says conversationally. Hux wonders if perhaps the reason she was at the office was to casually finagle his home address from the receptionist after he had finished finagling Ren's.

"Why are you home so late?" Ren demands.

How long must Hux have been at the Solo's house? It can't have been more than an hour. "I do have a life outside of school," he begins, but Phasma interrupts.

"He was talking to you parents," she tells Ren. Blast, she must have heard him asking for their details.

Ren's face does a sort of... _angry_ thing. "How could you?"

Hux sinks further back into his seat, wondering how to justify his actions when he isn't even sure of the motivations behind them. Phasma raises her eyebrows. She's probably only just realising what a disaster she's inadvertently kindled.

"How _dare_ you?" Ren is yelling now. It's to be expected, but it still shocks Hux just a little.

"I did what I had to do," Hux says. "It was my duty as a teacher to inquire—"

"Hux," Phasma says, a terrible glint in her eye. Perhaps kindling disaster was her intent. "You were kind."

Hux's mouth turns down and he glares at Phasma. He glares at Ren. "I did what I had to do to be a good teacher."

"You were really thinking about the greater good, weren't you?" Phasma says. Hux hadn't anticipated her sounding this proud. He considers that he wasn't really thinking about the greater good at all. Some selfish urge drove him to learn more about Ren's life, to invade it and reorder it as he wished.

"I don't care what kind of greater good you thought you were helping," Ren says. "You betrayed me."

Hux scoffs. "I didn't _betray_ you," he says, although he rather did. Judging by the look on Ren's face, whatever fatherly trust he previously had instilled in Hux is absolutely shattered. And Hux cannot believe it, but he feels a little bit remorseful. He can't understand why—Ren is a wild animal, and an emotionally stunted idiot—but there's still regret creeping in at the back of his mind.

"You did," Ren shouts. He gets up out of his seat and storms out the front door, not bothering to close it.

Hux glances after him and lets out a tired sigh. "Why are you here, then?" he asks Phasma, too disgusted by his own emotions to act as fazed by Ren as Phasma, whose eyebrows have raised so high they're practically falling off her head. "I thought we were... even less of friends than we usually are."

Phasma gives him a little pained smile. "I wanted to apologise about that unpleasantness before." She smooths her coiffed hair—a nervous habit, Hux is beginning to deduce. "It wasn't fair of me to write you off like that. Who says those monsters aren't out there?"

It's a fair surprise that Phasma wanted to come back at all, even more so that she apologised first and accepted Hux's point of view, especially considering that Hux's opinion sounds absolutely mad. Privately, Hux thinks he threw the worst of the damage in their argument, too. "Well," he says. "It's certainly humble of you to come and say sorry like that. And," -he pauses. "If it'll make things right again, I apologise too."

Phasma nods curtly. "All forgiven, then."

Hux nods too, then leans back in his seat tentatively. Things are back to normal. So he has the right to demand: "How the hell did you find my house?"

"How the hell did you find Ren's?" she asks rhetorically. "I went to the office, sweetheart."

Hux sniffs. "I suppose that's how you heard I was looking to talk to Ren's parents."

Phasma smiles. "Yes. I can't imagine why, though. He's a lost cause, bless his heart."

With an idle glance towards the door, Hux lifts up his brandy bottle and pours himself a glass. "I'm not so sure."

"All right," she says. "What is it you plan to do with him? Whether it's for the greater good or not."

"I'm going to sound very unlike myself," Hux says, "But I think he needs a friend." He knows Phasma will think he is being kind again, but it's better to appear kind than to expose what sort of strange, selfish reasons he truly has for wanting to help Ren. (He's still quite uncertain about what they actually are, to be honest.)

"I hope that friend isn't going to be you. You don't seem like you'd be very good at it."

"No," Hux says, with a bit of a smile. "He has a cousin; they used to be close. Her father took her away, and now Ren's parents are trying to get this Uncle Luke to bring her back."

"Dramatic," Phasma comments.

"His family does seem very... interesting. More ordinary than I'd expected though, mind you."

"In what way?"

Hux frowns, and leans back in his chair. "Their house is full of photographs, and cushions and things. You know. It's all very homey." He looks around his living room. It doesn't look very lived in, but of course, that's his choice, he could easily make more of an effort to make it a home. But first he'd have accept that that was something he wanted. "It's strange to think that such a brute can live in such a calm little home."

"It is rather, isn't it?" Phasma says. Her eyes move over the wall behind Hux. "If you don't mind me asking, have there been any developments in this monster business?"

Hux considers. He won't tell her that one found its way into his house. "No, not really. Perhaps it is my imagination," he says, trying to reduce the cause for worry.

He must have succeeded, because she looks satisfied with his answer. She looks towards the door that Ren stomped out of. "Wonder if he's coming back."

Hux sniffs in irritation. "He is." He looks at the door too, without logical cause. A thought occurs to him. "Is there a reason that you both happened to show up at my house at the same time?" He wonders if they're conspiring to make his life more annoying.

"He was sat on the doorstep when I arrived," Phasma says, with a small frown. "Never did tell me why he was here."

Ren bursts in about four seconds after she finishes her sentence. Timely. Hux is expecting him to jump straight into a rant about his traitorous betrayal, but instead, he walks right up to Phasma, and with the hardest look Hux has ever seen on a seventeen year old's face, says, "Get out."

Phasma raises her eyebrows, and her mouth quirks a little. "Or what?"

"I want to talk to Hux alone." (Hux presumes that by this he means he wants to yell at Hux a lot without getting told off by anybody impartial.)

"All right," she says, that little half-incredulous smile still on her face. "I'll see you tomorrow," she tells Hux. The door is still open from when Ren barged in, and she walks out and closes it behind her.

Ren forces himself into Hux's space, and gives him the same vicious stare he'd given to Phasma. Perhaps with even more feeling. Hux doesn't back away, just stares up at Ren from his armchair. Ren is the picture of madness, with wild hair and far-too-intense eyes, looking like he's about to tear Hux limb from limb. Hux doesn't doubt that he could probably do a fair bit of damage, but still, he doesn't give. He refuses to let Ren dominate this situation.

"How dare you?" Ren hisses, for about the fifth time in the past hour. "You betrayer." Nobody has brought to Ren's attention what exactly Hux spoke to his parents about, but apparently it is blatantly clear.

"All right," Hux says, waving his hand. "I did break a promise. I shouldn't have done that."

"Why did you have to tell them?" Ren shouts, grabbing Hux's shoulders. His face is too close to Hux's, and Hux can see too much of the damage he inadvertently caused. Ren's eyes are red and damp like he's been rubbing at them. "I don't know why I actually trusted you." Ren doesn't wipe his eyes, instead he continues to stare at Hux unblinkingly, with a great dent in his forehead. "I hate everyone. Especially you."

"Oh, calm down," Hux says. Ren frowns emphatically and Hux sighs. "Get out of my face."

Ren backs away, and sits down, as aggressively as he possibly can. The entire couch jolts with the force of his body dropping onto it, and Hux eyes the ornament shelf behind him. Ah, well. Everything breaks sometime.

"Look," he says. "I did it for your safety, you cretin." When it looks like Ren doesn't have anything else to say, he rubs his forehead, and asks, "Why did you come here?"

"I don't have to tell you," Ren says defiantly.

"Fine, go home then. I don't have to put up with you in my house."

Ren rises out of his seat again, but doesn't make to leave, so Hux stands too, to match him. He refuses to give Ren the high ground. Ren doesn't like this though, it seems, as he squares his shoulders and glowers at Hux hard. He's breathing heavily, like a bull. Perhaps he's going to headbutt Hux.

The clock chimes half past six, and Hux thinks about how worried Ren's mother will be about the whereabouts of her child. "Go home," Hux says, more gently this time.

Ren doesn't appear to appreciate the give of his voice. "You're so horrible! You fiend," he says angrily, and then he makes a funny sound, and falls back onto the couch. "I said that cause I thought you'd be proud I knew that word."

Hux exhales, and sits down too, beside Ren on the couch rather than in his chair. "I am, a bit," he says. "Well done." He runs a hand through his hair. "Please listen, Kylo," he says after a pause, using Ren's name without a hint of irony. He hasn't done that before, has he? "You must be able to understand, I did it because I was worried about you."

"Why do you care?" Ren demands. He's pushing, but his tone isn't as rude as before. He's genuinely trying to understand, but of course, he is Kylo Ren, so he is failing.

"Because," Hux says. It pains him to get out the words. "You have value as a person. All your family and I want is for you to be safe."

"All they want is for me to be somewhere they can watch me all the time," Ren mutters. He closes his eyes, and digs his fingers into the edge of the seat cushion. "I'm so awful. Sorry."

"Thank you for the apology," Hux says, "But it's quite unnecessary." He nearly pats Ren on the shoulder, but it's too strange, too familial, and he doesn't. "Now that this as close as it's going to get to resolved," he says instead, "Since you won't tell me why you came here, do you think perhaps you might be able to go home and see your parents? You would make it just in time for dinner."

"I'm not going home," Ren says. "You can't make me."

"I won't make you. I'm only encouraging it."

"Well, it's not happening."

The couch creaks with Hux's great sigh and the slackness of his body that comes with it. "All right."

"Can I sleep here?" Ren asks, outright.

It would be better for Ren to have a roof over his head than to just sleep in the park again. Hux suspects that he may have started sneaking into the nearby woods past the park at night to avoid getting caught, and it's hardly safe there, especially if it's out of the reach of the authorities. So Hux lets Ren stay.

They eat dinner together, which is uncomfortable and awkward—although it wouldn't be so terrible if Ren didn't keep staring at him. Every time Hux lifts his eyes from his plate, Ren's eyes are fixed on him, big and brown and inexplicably intimidating, and Hux doesn't have the guts to tell him to stop. Besides, even if Ren did, it wouldn't preclude something even more uncomfortable happening, so it's unlikely going to be worth it.

After dinner Hux equips Ren with the only spare blanket he has and a glass of water, and makes to go upstairs. It's all over with now, he thinks. But the uncomfortableness actually peaks a moment later, when Ren says "Goodnight," like the two of them are—like they're _something,_ and it's too familiar. Hux doesn't say anything in response, just walks straight up the stairs and into his room. That thread of regret is tugging inside him again when he shuts the door. It's still there when he falls asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Hux awakes in the night while Ren is still asleep in the living room to a clattering outside.

He gets up and looks out the window, and it's almost pitch black outside but there is something, definitely something down there moving. There's a torch in his bedside drawer, and he grabs for it, slides his shoes on and heads downstairs, practically excited to interact with the creature again. At the bottom of the stairs, he pauses, and opens the living room door just slightly. Just to check. And Christ, Hux is through with this. Ren has vanished from his place on the couch, and after some hasty checking, doesn't appear to be anywhere else in the house. The noise—there's probably no creature there at all, just Ren, struggling to climb over his fence. "Ren," he calls. "Get back here." He tries the front door, but it's locked, so it's most likely not the route Ren took.

Hux unlocks the door to look around the driveway, but when he gets outside, Ren is nowhere in sight, while the clattering noise persists. The creature theory comes back to mind. Perhaps Ren is already long gone, and it is the beast on Hux's drive. "Hello?" Hux says. His car makes a hideous crunching noise and jolts slightly, and he steps closer, peering in through the front window to see a familiar mass of black fur. Despite his vague worries about Ren, he finds himself still quite eager to try communicating with the beast again.

"Hello," he says again, and this time the creature looks up from inside the car. Hux is startled by the blood on its mouth, and he sees that there are shrivelled intestines and guts spread over the driver's seat, glistening with fluid and staining the cushion. He pales. He terribly hopes those aren't Ren's intestines. How would he explain that to the boy's parents? He stares at them, and quickly reaches the blessed conclusion they're too small, they must be some sort of an animal's.

The beast is not eating them though. It lifts them carefully in its mouth without biting down, and deposits the red lumps on Hux's dashboard, then looks up at Hux once more, as if for approval. Suddenly Hux can see the intention—they are a _gift_ for him. The creature thinks he cannot hunt, so it's bringing him food... Like a domestic animal. Like a pet.

"Thank you," Hux says, unconfidently. He gives a little smile, although the monster is hardly going to understand what a slight curve of the mouth means to a human. He touches his lips and then nods and gestures at the creature. "You keep them."

A flicker of uncertainty crosses the thing's eyes, and Hux nods again to reassure it. It gathers the bloodied remains of whatever poor animal it thought would make a good dinner for Hux up into its mouth, and sinks its teeth down, bursting the membranes and gushing more blood over its sharp, yellowed teeth. Its jaw hinges open and shut, and viscera dangles from its gums, oozing down the coarse fur on its neck and dribbling onto the car seat as it chews. Hux draws his eyes away. He's seen worse things, of course, but it's still... rather ghastly to look at.

Once the creature has finished lapping up the blood on Hux's leather seats, it scratches at the window, and the door falls open—it appears to have managed to knock the locks off completely. Swiftly, it jumps down, and pads around the car down the driveway, and Hux follows. It takes a look at Hux, then at the gate. Does it want him to let it out? It clearly got in by itself, so surely it's able— Oh dear. The creature does want to leave, but it wants to take Hux with it, too.

Hux is entirely unsure what compels him, but he finds himself unlatching the gate and opening it wide for the beast to lead the way. It runs, and he hurries after it, looking frantically around the street for passers by or eyes in any windows that might see the creature with him. The road is empty though, and the lights in all the houses are switched off, and Hux follows more confidently, breaking into a run when the creature increases its speed. He hasn't run in years, and yet here he is, sprinting down the street in his vest and pyjamas.

They reach the park, and pass the fence and go into the woods. If this is a regular spot the creature visits, Hux ought to be more adamant in telling Ren to go home at night.

The trees thicken, rich green masses blurring as they rush past, and Hux begins to grow tired and short of breath. "How much further?" he asks. The creature slows, and stops. "Here?" He's still got no idea what he's doing, talking to a monster who probably can't understand him at all, but that's not enough to persuade him to stop, apparently. The beast's ears prick up, and it lifts its snout up to sniff the air. Hux suddenly becomes anxious—there could be all manner of terrible things out here. This was a bad idea, he acknowledges very belatedly.

A rustling sound carries from behind them. Hux whips around, and the creature bounds past him in the direction of the noise. Another creature stands there, white like an arctic fox, its fur smooth but its eyes snake-like and its limbs contorted like Hux's beast's. It sniffs at the black creature beside it, and licks behind its ears in a fond sort of way. Could it be the black creature's mother? It does look feminine, although one can never be sure at a glance with animals.

The white beast appears to notice Hux, and prowls cautiously towards him, and he raises his hands with his palms open as he did in his bedroom with the first creature. "Hello."

She sniffs him, then glances back at the black creature, who barrels past her to eagerly press its nose into Hux's hand. Hux tenses up his face slightly at the damp cold of its muzzle, but scratches the back of the thing's neck anyway to show he doesn't mind. The white creature appears slightly more reassured and sits down in front of him, and he pats her head, while the black one flops onto the ground. Hux is a little amused. And very concerned. There's a smudge of drying blood on his palm wiped off of the creature's muzzle, from the animal he tore to pieces in Hux's car. These monsters appear so rabid and vicious. How can they act so docile?

The black creature looks up at Hux from the ground with wide eyes. It lies on its back, and its upside-down head lolls a little, then it sneezes.

"Good god," Hux mutters. "This is insane."

Unfazed by his words, the snowy bitch curls up on the earth beside her dark-furred friend, who continues to watch Hux as if it's expecting him to follow suit. He lowers himself to the ground, and kneels beside the creatures, petting them carefully. It's absurd, like a strange dream. He's in the middle of the woods, cosying up with two monsters.

A breeze ruffles the creatures' fur, and chills Hux's exposed arms. He should have brought his coat. The black creature seems to notice that he's cold: it lifts its head and rubs the side of its face against Hux's arm where goosebumps are forming. Bewildered, he rests his hand on its neck. "You're not so terrible at all, are you?" he says. His voice is soft, and the creatures seem to like it. They nudge him down to lie on the ground with them, but he resists. It's too strange. Too far. But he wants to. He feels different here, in the trees, in the dark, in the company of these creatures. He doesn't feel safer, exactly... but sedated. The trees look greyish and ashy in the cold air, and he just sits and looks at them, and at his breath, transforming into white clouds in front of him as he exhales.

He doesn't recall lying down at all, but he awakes later as suddenly as if he were dropped in cold water, with leaves and twigs digging into the back of his head. His body feels heavy, and his lips are stuck together with saliva. He runs his tongue over them, and blinks, trying to clear his vision.

The white creature is sitting, watching the woods around them, like a guard. The edge of her silhouette is silvery with moonlight. Hux looks up at the sky—it's still night, although it looks like it's getting close to morning. Through the gaps in the trees, he can see the clouds, a dusty grey, and a sliver of the moon low in the sky. The black creature sleeps still next to Hux, its head tucked close to Hux's ribs. "I have to get home," he says to nobody, and sits up. He makes a noise when a wave of vertigo hits him. He's feverish, and still heavy with that funny feeling of sedation that must have lulled him to sleep.

This is very bad. They're far enough into the woods that he can't remember which direction they came from, and even if he could, he isn't sure if he'd be able to walk all the way back himself. He's going to be stuck here for days. He's going to catch pneumonia... He may already have pneumonia.

The white creature appears to have noticed that he's awake. She gives her friend a nudge and a lick, then looks at Hux one last time and heads off into the trees, all trace of her gone before the black creature even opens its eyes. What a great help.

Hux presses his icy hand to his forehead, and slowly sits up again, the dizziness more muted this time. The black creature stirs and stumbles onto its feet when it notices that Hux is getting up. Hux ignores it. He manages to get into a standing position, but without anything to grasp onto and hold him up, it proves immensely difficult to walk very far. He's still not even sure which direction he should be heading in. "Alright," he mutters. Time for some strategy. "The moon is setting over there, which means... West. And the house is north." He starts walking at a perpendicular angle to the moon, then stops in his tracks. "Christ, that's the sun, not the moon."

The black creature trots up to him. It gives him a look, and a sort of sympathetic tilt of the head. Hux scoffs. "I don't speak dog." It stares at him. Clearly it doesn't speak human either, but it seems to be making a real effort to breach the communication barriers. Or maybe Hux is delusional—which is quite possible, he does have a fever.

If only the stupid dog thing was a horse and he could travel home on its back. Hux stops his sad attempt at walking to genuinely consider that thought. The creature does appear to be very strong—it managed to break his car door. Perhaps it could take his weight. The real question is whether it will let him on its back, and whether it will actually take him home or to some terrible monster den full of intestines. He is not interested in seeing any more intestines.

He grabs the scruff of the creature's neck, and it looks up at him. "Please don't misinterpret what I'm doing," he says, and lifts his leg over its back. Spectacularly, it seems to register his intent immediately, and perfectly correctly too. It lowers its head slightly and shifts its shoulder blades forwards so that Hux has more of a seat. Hux holds tightly to the beast's neck, and pushes up on the foot that's still on the floor so that his weight rests completely on the creature's back. "All right," he says as the creature starts to walk, its head twisting back in an effort to check on him every few steps. "This is happening. All right."

Soon the creature picks up speed, and Hux grips its shoulders tightly and ducks his head down. Gradually, the trees start to thin and Hux guesses that they're getting closer to the town—but as soon as he stops panicking that he's lost, he starts worrying about the chances of the neighbours seeing him riding a giant mangey wolf.

But once the trees clear, the creature suddenly starts to sprint, bounding across the park and down the road faster than Hux can imagine his car is capable of traveling. Presumably the creature is thinking about being seen too—it's smarter than it looks. Hux is thankful for that, albeit slightly concerned that it might have lifted the worry straight out of his head with some other sort of supernatural power. It does seem to be able to tell what he's thinking a hell of a lot of the time. Maybe it's just very skilled at intuition. He can't be sure of anything really, everything the creatures have done has defied what he's expected of them.

When they get back to the house, Hux is breathing in big shaky gasps, and somehow feels infinitely more exhausted, despite the fact that he hasn't done anything except sit there the whole distance back. Pneumonia is starting to look like more of a genuine concern.

He stumbles off the creature's back to open the front door (which he's suddenly very glad he left unlocked, because there's no chance in heaven he'd be able to jam the key into the hole even if he had remembered to bring it with him), and then walks into the doorframe.

"Do you think you could," he says to the creature, hoping it will understand that he requires a tad more help. It does, and trots up to him helpfully, and he grasps the straggly fur at the scruff of its neck and climbs back onto its back. He's not sure how it manages to get him up the stairs safely when he doesn't really have the strength to hold on to anything and he's essentially just balanced there, but he finds himself in his room a moment later. The creature leans to the side and Hux drops onto the bed, his legs hanging off the edge of the mattress awkwardly. He hauls them up and settles on top of the covers with his shoes still on. Whatever's wrong with him, he needs to sleep. Or perhaps he needs to stay awake. At this point he's not sure he really cares—he's going to sleep anyway.

Just as he's closing his eyes, the creature jumps up onto the bed with him, and for a brief moment Hux is quite frightened (it must be the fever, inducing such pitiful feelings), but then the creature curls up at the foot of the mattress, and Hux smiles faintly. "Good... horse," he mumbles, patting the creature's back with his foot—which still has a shoe on it, although the creature doesn't seem to mind.

Hux goes to sleep not long after that. He wakes up several hours later to an empty bed and incessant knocking at his door. All his muscles are stiff and his eyes are practically glued together, and he wants to go back to sleep. Perhaps the noise will go away if he can just ignore it. He covers his ears and tries to relax.

The knocking gets louder. _"What,"_ he grits out.

Without a word of warning, Ren opens his door, and Hux jolts embarrassingly in shock. He must look a state. He's stuck to his sheets with sweat from the fever that doesn't seem to have broken yet, and he's fairly sure there are still leaves in his hair.

Ren glances around his room nosily, then when his eyes land on Hux, gives him a weird look of distaste. "Why are you wearing your shoes?"

Oh, yes. And that. "My feet were cold," Hux says indignantly. "Why are you in my room?"

Ren runs a hand through his hair. The edges of his face are damp—has he washed? Hux never would have expected that he had hygiene standards. "I was hungry," Ren says. "It's eleven in the AM."

"You didn't have to march into my bedroom," Hux says. "There's a bowl of fruit on the table, surely you're capable of peeling a banana."

Ren doesn't appear to be listening anymore, clearly his attention span is even shorter than Hux had thought. He picks up a small model train on Hux's shelf—another trinket his father left behind that Hux never bothered to dispose of—and turns it over in his hand, poking the tiny windows with his finger. "You know," Ren says, setting down the train, "I could swear you're secretly sixty years old."

Hux shoots him a look, and then starts shivering. He's beginning to hugely regret following the creature out. Luckily, Ren is completely absorbed in tapping Hux's bedside clock to see if he can make the hands move out of place. Hux huffs and tries to get up to usher Ren out of his room, but the effort it takes to sit up leaves him clutching the mattress to keep from tipping forwards and collapsing onto the floor.

Finally drawn away from the various items in Hux's bedroom, Ren gives him a stare. "You're being weird," he says. "Are you sick or something?"

Hux grunts and bats him off.

"Or are you actually sixty?" Ren asks, eyes wide like he's discovered some incredible secret conspiracy.

"What are you even doing here?" Hux asks once it dawns on him that Ren _left_ last night. "You disappeared in the middle of the night, I know it."

"I went for a walk," Ren says, looking away from Hux again. "By the woods."

Hux hides his worry over whether Ren may have seen him. "I wouldn't go there again at night," he says, to justify any concern Ren might detect. Although safety is a rational worry too. He knows the creatures wouldn't hurt him, but maybe he is an exception and they wouldn't think twice about killing another human (eg. Ren). And even if they didn't go after Ren, what if Ren saw one of them, and didn't realise that they were harmless, and _he_ attacked _them,_ or something? Christ almighty, he's concerned about the wellbeing of monsters now. "It's not safe," he says ineptly after a long silence.

"It's a small town," Ren mutters. "What could happen?"

Hux gives Ren a steely look at that. He doesn't expect Ren to know about the creatures, but—he really can't think of anything? "Were you really that ignorant as a child?" Hux says. "There were serial killings here, years ago. Even I know that."

Ren grits his teeth. "I'm well aware. But there haven't been any since then, have there?"

"Maybe they're just getting better at making it look like an accident," Hux says, and suddenly he thinks back to the mechanic who was crushed under that machine. He shakes off the thought. It's completely unfounded. He puts his cool hand on his forehead again and settles forward, resting his elbow on his knee. His fever is starting to lift a little.

When Hux looks back up at Ren, he's stopped plinking Hux's bedside glass of water with his fingernail. He looks a little unwell. "There's no one out there," he snaps, a funny frown on his face. "I'll go back if I like."

"All right," Hux scowls. "Just don't blame me if you come back half slashed to death."

"I won't," Ren says, clearly without much thought. He gives Hux one last indignant look and leaves. Hux presumes he's still in the house because he hasn't had his breakfast yet, but as soon as he goads Hux into making something he'll probably storm off straight to the woods again to spite him.

Despite his fever and the endless list of potential stupid consequences, Hux hauls his heavy bones out of bed and makes his way downstairs to the kitchen—to find that Ren isn't there. He checks each room briefly, but there's no sign of him. Since there's nothing else to do and he feels to ill to eat anything himself, he makes his way to the stairs to go back to bed. But he catches sight of something that wasn't there before in the corner of his eye. He pauses, and steps back into the bathroom. There's a smudge of diluted reddish-brown in the sink, stark against the magnolia ceramic, like somebody had washed blood off something but hadn't thought to swill the sink after. Hux's mind goes to Ren, and his damp face when he came into Hux's room.

Maybe it was just a nosebleed. Or maybe something strange is going on with that boy, and he's hiding something.  _But then again,_ Hux reminds himself, _so are you._ So they're both deceiving fiends. Well, Hux can make his peace with that.

He walks back into the kitchen aimlessly. A banana peel sits on the countertop, and Hux finds a small smile on his face.


	12. Chapter 12

Over the weekend, Hux sleeps off the fever, and when he returns to school on Monday and Ren asks about him, he insists that he is entirely well again. It's a bit of a fib, he's still quite wobbly on his feet and just a little too warm, and somehow Ren manages to pick up on that. He gives Hux a little shove and calls him a liar, which is true, but it doesn't irritate Hux at all. In fact, it makes him feel sort of fond. (Terrible, just _terrible._ )

Phasma catches him muttering to Ren at the end of class when she comes to see him at break. Ren starts to leave immediately when he sees her, barely giving her a nod hello. But he stops and looks back at Hux from the doorway. Hux thinks that perhaps he wasn't supposed to notice, but he acknowledges Ren anyway with a nod, and Ren scurries away. Phasma turns her head to see what he had been looking at, but Ren is already out of sight. "Got a minute to talk?" she asks.

Hux nods. All of the children are at lessons, and he has a free period and nothing to fill it with.

"What is it with you and him?" Phasma asks.

Idly, Hux moves a few things around on his desk. "I could say the same to you," he says, without looking up. He starts to think, perhaps they shouldn't be grilling each other only days after managing to salvage their friendship. But maybe that's just how their friendship works. He raises his eyebrows. "You know each other, don't you?"

Phasma feigns confusion. "I've seen him in your class, if that's what you mean."

"No." Hux settles into his chair, and looks up at her. "You give each other these funny looks, like you both know something I don't. Either that or you avoid eye contact like it's the plague."

Phasma shrugs, turns around and pulls one of the desk chairs up beside Hux's desk, and sits down. Then she fixes her eyes on him. Her gaze is intense, but not persecutory. "You do just the same, you know."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Maybe you don't, but you ought to. You keep-" Phasma pauses, "Looking at him."

Hux frowns. He wants to be offended but she's quite right, and he'd barely noticed he'd been doing it. "What are you insinuating?" he asks.

"I'm not insinuating anything. But it doesn't look good, Hux. It looks strange."

"Well, I'm sorry. It's just eye contact. He stares a lot, and I can't be the weaker one and look away. I'm supposed to be in an authority position."

Phasma lets out a sigh. "Why are you spending so much time with him, anyway?"

"I don't know. He seems to have latched onto me—"

"No," Phasma interrupts.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. You've latched onto him. You're trying to help him. It's bizarre, and I want to know what the purpose of it is."

"I don't know," Hux says genuinely. "He reminds me of me, I suppose."

Phasma snorts. "That's an outright lie, and you know it. Come on. There's got to be a motive."

But despite however much he searches inside himself, Hux can't seem to find one. "There just isn't."

"Hux," Phasma says. "People like us don't do things without a motive."

"Will you stop with that 'people like us' business?" Hux snaps. "I know we're alike, but that doesn't mean we're the same."

The room is silent for a moment, and then Hux yields.

"But you're right," he says. "There will be a reason. I just... haven't worked out what it is yet."

Before Phasma can say anything in response, the sound of footsteps in the hallway carries into the classroom and Hux lifts his hand sharply to stop her speaking. A moment later, Ren appears at the door. "Forgot my bag," he says, walking through the classroom to his desk. He slows when he sees Phasma and Hux's faces. "What are you talking about?"

"Teacher business," Hux says.

Ren slings the strap of his bag over his shoulder. "That's a lie," he says. Then he smiles. "But it's okay."

When Ren is finally out of earshot again, Hux looks down.

"Look at that," Phasma scolds. "He is attached to you. This just keeps getting stranger. I really do suggest you drop him and stop with this nonsense before he drags you into something awful."

Hux parts his lips, then presses them together again. He doesn't want to stop this nonsense.

Phasma tilts her head, trying to get a look in his eyes. "You don't want to drop him," she says. "You want to keep him."

"Yes, I suppose."

"Your pet project."

Hux nods, although it's rather more something to do with tedious emotional attachment than some sort of walking experiment. Less of a pet project, and more of an... actual pet.

"All right then," Phasma says. "Let's see how that works out. I'm glad you've found something of intrigue to you, but if he gets you in trouble then you do have to think about cutting him out."

"'Cutting him out'?" Hux repeats. "He's in my class five periods a week."

"Well, we better hope it goes well then." She gives Hux one of her winning smiles, and then stands and walks out the classroom, her red polka dot dress swishing behind her.

"When did you become my legal guardian?" he mutters once she's disappeared down the hall. Then he leans back in his seat, and looks out the window. The concrete of the school grounds is always damp, although the weather is normally fairly warm and Hux can never seem to remember it raining. It's empty out there, all the children are at lessons, except Hux can see just at the far end of the playground someone sitting on the edge of a bench. He looks closer, and sighs when he recognises Ren's untidy hair. _Why always Ren?_ he thinks.

As he's looking at Ren out the window, he remembers what Phasma said about the staring between the two of them. He goes to stop, to break his eyes away and look at anything else, but he just feels so oddly compelled to watch. It's impossible to explain why. It isn't even like Ren is doing anything particularly interesting, he's just sitting. And Hux is just watching.

Ren looks up. He's a fair distance away so Hux can't read his face, but he feels like maybe Ren doesn't really want to be alone. Since there's nothing else for him to do, Hux wonders if he should go out and sit with him. Although he knows there's no chance he'll be able to persuade Ren to go back to lessons, it might do him good to feel less isolated—and he looks very, very isolated: the bench he's sitting on is the furthest away, and an overgrown tangle of leaves from the trees behind hang around it like a wall from the rest of the playground. Hux may as well go out and keep him company.

Hux's classroom window is the only one that looks out on this part of the grounds, and it's calm, and secluded. Or at least as calm as you can get at a school full of teenagers. The indistinct rattle of chatter and commotion drifts outside from the classrooms as Hux walks down the path to the benches, getting quieter as he gets further away, until he reaches where Ren is sitting, and almost all the sounds from inside are absorbed in the grass and the mass of trees and bushes at the edge of the grounds.

"Any reason in particular you didn't go to your next lesson?" Hux asks as he sits down on the bench next to Kylo.

There is a leaf in Kylo's hands, and about a hundred tiny pieces of it are ripped up and scattered over his lap. He doesn't look up from the leaf when he speaks. "It's all useless," he says. He sounds indifferent, like this isn't some new realisation but something he's been thinking about for a while. "I'm not going to become some great literary author guy, I'm not going to be a historian or a mathematician or a scientist. There's no purpose in letting me carry on these classes."

Hux looks at Ren next to him. He doesn't really know what to say.

Ren tears off another small piece of the leaf. "I'm not upset about it," he clarifies. "But there just isn't any point. Can't I go and be a mechanic like my father and be done with it? I already know how to do everything I'd need to, I've been watching him since I was a kid."

Hux doesn't think it's the sort of question he can give a satisfactory answer to. "Your mother—I'm assuming it's your mother—clearly wants you to go through the school system, and that's why you're here. It can't do any harm to be cleverer."

"How do you know? You're clever and you really don't seem very happy."

"What makes you think that?" asks Hux, taken aback.

"I don't know," Ren says. "You never smile. I mean, you laugh at things I say sometimes because they're stupid, but."

"Maybe I'm smiling inside." It's a weak try, Hux thinks, but it might fool him.

Ren looks over at him, an unconvinced frown on his face. "You ought to be happier."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't just click my fingers and become Mr Sunshine."

"General Sunshine," Ren corrects. "You would be General Sunshine."

Hux smiles, and then when Ren grins too he starts laughing. "You are quite brilliant sometimes."

"Thank you," Ren says humbly. He smiles at Hux once again, and then looks down at his leaf.

Hux keeps looking at Ren, for some reason. It's somehow better that Ren isn't looking back at him. He can just observe this way. When they're making eye contact Hux feels pressured, like he needs to exert his power, because if he doesn't then Ren will be the dominant one, and he couldn't possibly let that happen. He feels that way with everybody, but with Ren it seems that he has to make much more of an effort to be the more powerful presence—even though Ren is clearly the lesser in terms of intelligence and status, his bluntness and headstrongedness make him a challenge to stay ahead of.

It's almost pleasant just to look at Ren's face, slightly ashy in the sunlight, and his crooked nose and dark eyelashes and messy hair, Hux thinks, as he watches Ren tear idly at his leaf. It's probably a strange thought. He doesn't find it pleasant to look at any of his other students. In fact, just being in the presence of most of them wears him out. Ren tires him too, of course—he has the most exhausting personality out of anyone Hux has ever had the displeasure of meeting—but somehow it's still satisfying to be able to look at him.

"This is dull," Ren says, and Hux draws his eyes away from him in case he looks up.

"Well," Hux says, "What were you doing before I got here?"

"Nothing. That was dull too."

"Why didn't you just go to lessons? At least then you'd have something to do." Nothing Ren does ever seems to make sense to Hux. He defies logic.

"Don't know," Ren shrugs. "I wondered what you'd do if you saw me out here."

"Oh, you do like to stir things up, don't you."

Ren gives a bit of a smirk. "It's good fun."

"It is," Hux agrees.

"You're a teacher," Ren says disapprovingly, looking over at Hux. "You're not supposed to agree with me."

Hux inhales, and then breathes out lazily. He wishes he had a cigarette. Shame he gave up. "I really don't have the heart to argue with you when I don't care."

"You know, I was wrong about you. You're pretty cool."

"I'm not cool," Hux says. He pauses for effect. "I'm ice cold."

Ren grins and shoves him again. He's probably being a little more casual than is appropriate, but nobody is going to know. The only classroom that looks out on this part of the grounds is Hux's, so they're safe from suspicious teachers, or other children thinking Ren is becoming a teacher's pet. Although anyone who is suspicious is probably rightfully so. Hux is hardly a good role model or even a particularly safe person to be around. It sometimes baffles him how meticulous people are about who should be allowed around their children, yet he has killed people and he passed all checks without a second thought. Something to do with respect for veterans, probably.

When the lunch bell rings, Hux feels let down by the existence of time. He had wanted to stay here longer. Well, he could stay through lunch, but then there would be children everywhere, and that rather spoils his desire to sit in the quiet. He looks at the leaf in Ren's hands.

"Don't you have to go to the staff room now?" Ren asks.

"No," Hux says. "But I don't think I'll stay here." He brushes against Ren's shoulder when he stands up, and suddenly his whole brain is tilted off course. He's feeling a sort of emotion. It's unsettling but not unpleasant, and Hux doesn't know what it is, just that it's strong enough that it startles him. It takes him a few moments for him to regain focus, and when he does, Ren is staring up at him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Hux rushes out. "Absolutely."

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Hux straightens his shirt. "In lessons. I'd like you to try and attend all your classes tomorrow."

"I'll see how it goes," Ren says. "Can't make any promises."

"How about I give you a free pass out of English in exchange for you actually going to history tomorrow?"

Ren scoffs. "Come on, history's the last thing I'm going to need in life."

Children begin to spill out of the doors onto the grounds, chatting and swinging their lunch boxes. Hux knows he ought to go now, but he isn't finished with Ren. "Perhaps, but the other day I mentioned Henry VIII and you had no idea who he was. That's a problem, Ren. That's simple general knowledge."

"This is harassment," Ren complains. "I thought you were cool."

"At no point did I genuinely agree that I was cool. I'm a teacher. I can let you out of some things but you really do need to make at least a basic effort."

"Fine, fine. I'll go to history. I can easily get all the information in twenty minutes, though. So, maybe just the second half?"

"Ren," Hux says sternly.

"Alright. The whole class. Whatever you say, General Sunshine."

Hux scowls, and then starts to leave. Ren doesn't say anything else, and Hux has to resist the urge to turn back and look at him again. But Phasma is right. The staring thing, it is strange, and probably very inadvisable. He ought to stop. There's just something compelling about Ren's wonky face. He makes an effort not to look back, but he wonders if Ren is looking at him—and if any of the children are watching Ren look at him. At least if he stops staring at Ren then he'll avoid suspicion from the other teachers, but if Ren keeps it up then his peers are bound to catch on sometime and start teasing him.

When Hux gets inside, he goes straight to the staff room. He hates it there, but at least there's no view out onto the playground. It smells like somebody has burned the coffee again, and there are no chairs left that aren't somehow broken, and Hux reluctantly grabs himself a mug and a chocolate bourbon biscuit and gets in line for the percolator. He wishes he'd brought a lunch with him for once so that he'd have something to do, but by process of elimination it's the least important meal of the day, so he never bothers making one.

People are making eye contact with him, and they're going to want to talk to him soon. He takes a bite of his stale biscuit. If only it was actually made with bourbon.

"Why, General!" Mrs Abbott exclaims. She bumps past several other teachers in the queue to invade Hux's space. Hux suddenly recalls that Mrs Abbott was one of the main reasons he vowed never to enter the teachers' lounge again. He feels regret. "We haven't seen you here in weeks. How have you been?"

Oh, what he would give for that biscuit to contain alcohol. "I've been just fine, thank you," he says politely. He gets to the front of the line and pours himself a cup of coffee. Black, no sugar.

"How is..." Mrs Abbott struggles for a name. "How is your—" Presumably her default small-talk script involves asking about his wife, or his children, or his parents, and she came to a dead end. The only people Hux thinks hold any significance to him are Phasma and Ren. He imagines what would happen if Mrs Abbott knew that. _'Oh, how is that almost-friend of yours? And that idiotic student you're bizarrely infatuated with?'_

"Everybody I'm in contact with is well, thank you," he says thinly, taking a sip of his coffee. He begins to wish that that contained alcohol too.

Mrs Abbot smiles blithely. "Lovely." She stares at him, that big rosy smile stuck on her face, waiting for him to recite the next line from the script.

He sighs into his mug, then puts it down on the table. "And how is Mr Abbott?"

"Well he's had that funny foot looked at, and they gave him some antibiotics and he's feeling much better now. And Suzy is going to start school here in a few months, isn't that wonderful?"

"Just... wonderful," Hux says, over-chewing his stale biscuit. "Wonder if she'll be in my class."

"Oh, I do hope so. Although she isn't taking English."

Hux stares at her. "Right."

The rest of lunch progresses in a similarly painful fashion, and by the end Hux hasn't had a moment to himself. Hardly a 'break'. In fact, he can't wait to get back to his class.

"You must promise to come back here at lunch tomorrow," Mr Thomson says, forcing that same beaming smile that is perpetually plastered on Mrs Abbott's face. "Everybody has so much catching up to do with you."

Hux raises his eyebrows. "Will do. Definitely." He is never coming back again.

His irritating class is pleasant company compared to the politely invasive busybodies over in the staff room, and the rest of the day breezes by smoothly. On the walk home he thinks about taking his car to get fixed at the weekend, and that's when he recalls that Ren said his father was a mechanic. It almost went straight over his head. He ought to give the seats an extra thorough clean before he hands it over to the shop in case Ren's father works there, so that he doesn't doubt Hux's credibility as a teacher and an appropriate person to be around his son. He had wiped them off already, but they're still a little stained from where the creature dumped that animal's entrails.

It's quiet when he gets home, and he feels perhaps a little lonely (which has nothing to do with the fact that Ren is on his mind), so he turns on the radio and makes some tea. Once he sits down in his armchair, the tea is the perfect temperature to comfortably warm his hands, and he takes a sip. He sighs, and is just about to close his eyes when his window smashes and the creature comes crashing through.

"Well, fuck," Hux says, with dignity, as shards of glass shoot across his floor around the room.

The glass settles, and Hux is just about to greet it as usual when he notices something off. The creature looks nothing like it did last time he saw it. Its appearance usually changes slightly each time he meets it again, but this time it's drastic, everything is different, more contorted... really, there are no words. Its eyes are the only thing that tell Hux it's the same creature he's seen before.

Ordinarily it could probably be mistaken for a large, slightly deformed domesticated wolf, but there is no natural explanation for this. Its skull is barely covered by a thin membrane of skin, its fur is almost gone, leaving bumpy and dark red-tinged flesh exposed, and its jaw creaks as it lifts its head.

A low growl rumbles in its throat and the glass crunches under its claws as it assumes a hostile stance. Hux is admittedly very concerned. He could possibly go so far as to say that he's afraid. The creature's eyes flash to Hux's, slits narrowing, and suddenly, it lunges in a snap movement and sinks its teeth into Hux's hand. Hux chokes on a gasp as the creature skids away from him. The pain spreads through his arm, stinging and deep, and the creature puts more distance between them, suddenly passive. Hux stares at his hand. The shock is so jolting he almost stumbles off his feet. The teeth marks are enormous, deep and ragged, and the skin is red and inflamed all around the wound already. Infection looks likely, but he's aware that going to a doctor is inadvisable in case they inquire how he got it, so instead, numb with shock, he stumbles to the bathroom to get the iodine and deal with it himself.

Hux ignores the creature behind him as he fumbles with the knob on the cupboard, and then picks up the nearest thing that's acceptable to dab at the wound with. The blood soaks slowly into the yellow of the bath sponge, pooling in the tiny air bubbles, and he stares at it. He feels cold inside, betrayed. He doesn't know why. It's only an animal, what else could he have expected?

He tips a little iodine onto the sponge and swipes it over the wound. The sound of the creature crunching the glass on the floor under its feet distracts him, and he gives in and turns back to look at it. It still looks different, its eyes are still narrow and wicked, but it's no longer quite so rabid. Hux wonders how he could have ever seen this monster as a friend. And yet, he still feels so inexplicably offended.

It's just a beast. Volatile and unpredictable. All those instances where it had seemed intelligent... they had just been flukes, surely. It's not compatible. This creature that so viciously bit him can't be the same as the one who helped him, and tried to communicate in such a friendly manner before.

The roll of bandages in the cupboard is nearly finished, but there's just enough for Hux to wrap his hand sufficiently. He kneels on the bathroom floor for a long while after it's done, just looking at the faint red seeping through the patch under the bandages. When he finally gets up and leaves, his muscles are sore from sitting on the hard floor for so long. He stretches, his joints clicking, and wanders into the living room. The creature is gone. Tension he didn't realise he was holding in his shoulders disappears: he can deal with the fact that one of his only friends, albeit a supernatural non-verbal non-human one, is gone, later. It's then that he processes how much of a wreck the room is.

It takes him almost two hours to sweep all the glass outside and pin up a sheet to cover the gaping broken window, and there are still tiny shards dusted over the floor, and cold air creeps in around the edges of his makeshift windshield. As he works, his thoughts circle around the same things over and over—Ren, Phasma, and what they'd think if he told them about any of this. He wishes he could have the company of at least one of them right now. He could telephone Phasma, but she would hear in his voice that something is wrong and ask about it, and he can't tell her that one of the creatures bit him or she'll think he's really insane. Unless he shows her the wound. There's no hiding that. Perhaps the evidence would convince her—but Hux doesn't want to drag her into something like that. It'll be impossible to convince her that it's just a little injury from trying to fix his car though, she's too smart for that.

What an impossible situation, Hux thinks. Every situation he's in seems to be an impossible one these days.

He goes to bed early, lamenting the fact that he no longer has any idea what's going on in his life. And he used to be such a brilliantly put-together person.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't updated in a while, so in case you've forgotten what happened last chapter: phasma is concerned that hux is spending so much time with ren and wants to know wtf his motive is, then later the creature bites hux and hux feels super betrayed, and also hux is beginning to get Slightly infatuated with kylo ren

On the walk to school the next morning, Hux finds himself fretting about crossing paths with the creature he'd once so looked forward to seeing. And it makes him doubly ashamed, because anxiousness had always been something he looked down on as a pathetic human trait.

The creature doesn't reappear at all, but even at school, surrounded with witnesses, Hux still feels on edge. He keeps running his fingers over the bandage on his hand, and several students notice and whisper to one another about how maybe Hux is doing secret army missions in his spare time. Hux almost sniggers when he hears—he wishes that were the case. At least then he'd have an organisation to blame for his newly unstable mental state. And maybe he'd get some compensation.

When Ren's class comes in, it occurs to Hux that he may have to come up with an explanation for this for Ren. He's bound to ask questions, and now that they're not-exactly-enemies, Hux probably owes him an answer.

Ren stares at the bandaged hand through the whole lesson, looking away when Hux eyes him, but returning moments later every time. But that's fairly normal for Ren. Hux only takes notice when he stops looking at anything at all. His eyes fog over and he frowns, covering his mouth like he's thinking about something very difficult. Hux quietly approaches him while the rest of the class is doing work. "Kylo," he says in a lowered voice. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, fine," Ren says, but he's still frowning.

"Just tell me if you need to go to the nurse or something, yes?"

Ren's frown deepens, and finally he makes eye contact with Hux again. "It's you that should go to the nurse. What's wrong with your hand?"

Hux considers telling a half-truth and saying he was bitten by a dog at the park, but in the end he settles for the more innocuous lie. "Just a little scrape from trying to fix my car."

"You need to get it healed," Ren says distantly, and presses his thumb onto his bottom lip.

"Yes, that's why I bandaged it. Kylo, do you know you're being very strange right now?"

"No, no, it's all good," Ren says. Then he jolts with some sort of muscle spasm. His hands are balled into fists so tightly his knuckles are white. Then head drops forward, and he clenches his jaw, gritting out a swear under his breath. He looks up at Hux. "Actually, maybe I should go to the nurse," he says hurriedly.

"All right," Hux says, schooling the concerned expression that's threatening to show. He nods at the boy seated at the desk next to Ren's. "Johnson, you take him?"

"No," Ren cuts in, "I need you to take me."

Hux puts on a stern face. "I'm sorry, but I have a class to teach—"

"Not important," Ren says, already on his feet, and grabs Hux's arm.

As they leave the classroom, students snigger about them, but Hux doesn't turn back to scold them. He's caught up in what might be wrong with Ren that's so urgent he needs to drag Hux along with him. His first thought is that maybe Ren managed to get ahold of some of Hux's painkillers when he slept at his house, and maybe he did something stupid with them. "Have you taken something?" he asks Ren. "You have to tell me if you have." He's on the edge of panic, and he's angry too if this is the case, but Ren stubbornly doesn't reply.

They pass the nurse's office, and Hux's head swipes back. "That was the nurse. You could see her sitting there through the doorway, you can't be _that_ ill."

Ren still stays silent and keeps walking, quickly and purposefully like the nurse wasn't where he had intended to go at all. The fire exit door is ahead of them and Ren pushes through it, tugging Hux along with him outside.

Hux isn't sure what to say, or what's going on. It seems important so he doesn't want to question it, but it's also completely nonsensical. They're off the school grounds now, struggling through the bushes that border the woods. Ren's beginning to get unstable on his feet, and he keeps grasping at Hux's shoulder. Hux offers his arm, and Ren looks at him for a moment, trembling slightly, then takes it, carrying on through the woods until Hux isn't entirely sure which direction they came from.

"Okay," Ren rasps, tugging away from Hux. "I'd really advise against following me any further."

"But you pulled me out here," Hux says, then chokes on his words a little when Ren pulls his shirt over his head. "What are you _doing—"_

"Look, I know you're not gonna listen," Ren yells, getting further away, "But please keep your fucking distance."

Hux holds his tongue about how hypocritical Ren's being. He stays on the spot, his eyes on Ren, whose movements are getting more unsteady as he disappears into the trees and out of sight. He doesn't come back. It's minutes before anything happens, and even then it's nothing reassuring: the creature bounds up to Hux from out of the bushes.

"What in the hell..." Hux says. The creature looks normal again, and there's no trace of hostility in its eyes, or its body language. Hux stares at it, wary. "Ren?" he calls again, his eyes on the beast.

It looks back up at him. Its tail sways, like a dog.

"You go away," he says to it, and it backs away slightly. "You're in disgrace."

He picks up Ren's shirt off the floor, and starts off walking in the direction Ren had gone in, yelling his name, but after several minutes of searching there's still no sign of him. Distracted by his irritation and secret worry that Ren is in some sort of trouble, he manages to trip over a root, and as he's getting back on his feet and collecting himself the creature trots over to him. Hux huffs. It appears that it's been trailing along behind him the whole time. "What do you want?" he snaps.

It had been a rhetorical question, but in response the creature nudges at his injured hand.

"What, you're going to bite me again?" he asks, annoyed, but he doesn't snatch back his hand when the creature starts tugging at the dressing lightly with its teeth. It pulls on the end of the bandage so that it starts to unwind itself, and keeps tugging until eventually Hux's hand is uncovered. The air feels cold on his inflamed skin, and he holds his hand there tensely, wary that any minute the creature might do something mad again.

It delivers, and starts licking his hand. Hux flinches, but allows it, guessing that it's some sort of apology. That is, until the bite starts to feel cool and soothed, and then, before his eyes, disappears, leaving nothing but a faint scar.

"What... the fuck," he utters.

The scab is gone, and the pain is gone, and the creature is looking up at him waiting for approval. He doesn't know what to say; he's speechless. He pats the creature, and its ears go flat. "How did you do that?" he asks. He wants to swear again, but there isn't a word dramatic enough to sum up his surprise.

He supposes that this explains how all of the injuries he'd seen the creature get healed so quickly. That broken leg, that awful thing with its spine. Hux's guess had been that it was some sort of super strength, but this is much more useful, albeit slightly disgusting: being able to heal other people too just with its saliva. He thinks about what this could mean for the world, all the possibilities—he could bottle it and sell it as miracle healing tonic. There wouldn't be much in quantity, but it would still have the potential to make millions. He'd shock the medical world, the scientific world. The world in general.

But he couldn't do that to his strange little monster friend. It wouldn't be fair. "All right, you're forgiven," Hux says, and ruffles the top of the creature's head. "Still not sure why you felt the need to bite me in the first place, but."

With the creature in tow, Hux carries on through the woods looking for Ren, shouting his name and even 'Ben' once or twice, just in case. Now and then the creature pulls ahead and stands in front of Hux, like it's trying to get him to stop, but after nothing happens when Hux plays along, he begins to get tired of it. And it feels like it's been hours and he still can't find Ren. He starts to think about heading back to the school, but then he's not sure what he'll do with the creature. It seems to be fairly adept at staying hidden from other people—Hux wonders briefly why it revealed itself to him in the first place, because it can't have been an accident when it's so good at being invisible—but what if it misunderstands and follows him inside? And if it does stay out in the woods, what if Ren is still out there and it finds him, goes manic again and bites him too? Or worse?

Eventually Hux just decides to see what happens if he goes back to the school. He's been absent for long enough, and there's a chance that Ren returned ages ago and has just been hanging about at the nurse's office the entire time Hux has been searching for him.

Hux follows the sun, thankful that he was bored enough to look up which direction the school is facing one weekend a few months ago. The creature trails behind him. When Hux asks it to stay, it seems to understand and sits down, albeit a little uncertainly. Hopefully it'll stay there long enough for him to get out of sight. As he walks along, he takes the used bandage out of his pocket and winds it around his hand again to avoid suspicion, and marvels at the creature's special ability. What a valuable gift.

He looks ahead, through the trees, the bushes that border the grounds just in sight. He wonders how his class has been getting on without him. If he's lucky nothing will be on fire. Thankfully, there's no sign of smoke from outside the school as he walks across the grounds, which is quite a victory as total destruction of the school is a genuine concern when seventeen year old students are left alone. Less fortunately, Ren is not the nurse's office when Hux goes to check, nor is he in the classroom.

"I hope you've been getting along with your work," Hux says to the class when he comes back in. He tries to seem unconcerned, as if he just dropped Ren at the nurse's office and returned straight away, even though they've surely all noticed that he was gone for at least an hour. "I'll be marking it tonight."

The students exchange dubious glances, and a couple start giggling. Clearly they've all been lazing around from the moment he left.

"Just because I'm out of the room for a minute, doesn't mean you all have a free pass to slack off work," Hux chides. He sits down at his desk and glances over his notes. He's completely forgotten what the lesson had actually been about.

"Well, you can't punish us all," Abernathy shrugs.

"Are you sure about that?" Hux asks. It sounds like a challenge.

"It's Ren's fault you left, anyway," another boy, Rogers, pipes up. "Shouldn't you be punishing him?"

Hux purses his lips. It's true, if Ren was any other child he would be in a heap of trouble right now. Hux probably would have called his parents. But he doesn't want to worry Ms Solo any further. Besides, he's sure Ren will turn up soon, he probably just went to bunk off again. While having some sort of a fit.

"I'll make sure to reprimand him," Hux says, "But you're all in trouble too."

The class groans, and Hux chastises them. He gives them extra work to do to make up for their slacking, and they complain some more, and then they leave. When the day is over, Hux checks the nurse's office once more just in case before he goes home, but Ren is still not there. He unwinds his bandage and drops it in a medical waste bin, and leaves.

He's still worrying about Ren that evening after dinner. He sits in his chair, rubbing his forehead, the curtains open in case he spots Ren outside. It's a long shot but he doesn't care. His cup of tea is untouched next to him, traded instead for a glass of brandy, and the radio is on, playing some new tune that all the kids will be singing in the hallways, and Hux is feeling a little bit desperate. Not only is he worried about Ren, but he's lonely again, too. It's hideously sentimental, but he really does hope that Ren is all right, and not just for his own sake. Although a lot of it is for his own sake. And he's on the edge of realising why, it's already in his subconscious, but he doesn't want to listen. He's good at that: ignoring things in his mind that are trying to make themselves obvious to him. Repressing. It's a hobby.

Hux sees movement out the window. He turns, and there is Ren on his driveway, shirtless, looking a bit cold. On the bright side, he doesn't appear to be having muscle spasms any more. Hux raises a hand in a subdued sort of wave. It looks like all of this panic was for nothing, as usual.

Reassured, he goes to the door and opens it before Ren can knock. It looks like Ren is about to say hello, or maybe apologise, before he notices Hux's unbandaged hand. "Hey, how did your hand heal so quick?"

Hux opens his mouth, but then closes it when he sees the faint scar on Ren's stomach and remembers how the gash had impossibly healed in hours. Exactly like Hux's hand.

"Oh," Ren mumbles. "Never mind." He chews on his lip. "Look, I wanted to say sorry about dragging you out of class earlier."

"All right," Hux says, "But you'd better come in first. I'd like to talk to you about something as well."

Inside, they sit opposite each other, Hux in his armchair and Ren on the couch. "Do you have my shirt?" Ren asks.

"No, I left it at school," Hux says. "I suppose you could borrow one of mine again."

Ren shakes his head. "It's fine." He picks at a loose thread on the sofa, and looks at the floor.

"You were going to apologise for dragging me out of my class?" Hux prompts.

"Right," says Ren. "Yeah. Sorry about dragging you out of your class, I just... I was just trying to show you something."

"Just a note for future reference: a good apology doesn't have an excuse at the end of it," Hux says. "But what did you want me to see?"

"It's hard to explain." Ren avoids eye contact again, keeping his gaze fixed on his own knees. "You already saw it, but you didn't get it."

Hux furrows his brow. "It wasn't you shirtless, was it?"

Ren laughs, although he still seems anxious. "No." He runs a hand through his hair. "What happened after I went into the trees?"

"I looked for you. And then I went back to school."

"You're missing out something," Ren says, and Hux goes cold.

He didn't see Hux with the creature, did he, talking to it like he could understand it? Ren must think he's insane.

"Say it," Ren says. It's not aggressive, but there's energy behind it.

Hux meets his eyes. "No," he says pathetically.

"You spoke to that monster."

"It's explainable if you'll hear me out."

"You don't need to explain yourself," Ren says irritatedly. "You need to do some more thinking."

Now Hux is confused. "About what?"

Ren flops back in his seat. "I can't believe you haven't figured it out yet."

"Figured what— what are you trying to tell me?" Hux hasn't any idea of what he's supposed to know.

"All the days I skip school," Ren says. "They're the days you see the creature, aren't they?"

"Mostly," Hux says slowly. This is significant somehow, but he's doesn't want to voice the conclusion his brain has offered. "Would you please just tell me straight out what it is you're trying to say?"

"Come on, please just think harder. I'm not saying it, it sounds fucking stupid."

Hux sighs. "I'm going to sound stupider guessing."

"Fine. The creature is me. I'm the stupid creature."

"Are you trying to tell me," Hux begins, hoping that he's wrong, "That every now and then you magically turn into a great hulking monster? The same one that's been following me around?"

Ren raises his eyebrows and nods. "Yeah, I'd say that's about it."

Hux leans back in his chair. It's a little difficult for him to process. He wants to accuse Ren of lying and never talk about it again, but it all fits together. So many odd moments suddenly make sense. The blood left in Hux's downstairs bathroom sink after Ren washed his face—it must have been the blood left from chewing up that animal. And the creature finding Hux's home—he had taken Ren there for his detention right before that.

So, Kylo Ren is some kind of werewolf. Right. But then again, the transformations are anything but regular, and the creature form fluctuates, so maybe 'werewolf' isn't exactly the right term. Besides, werewolves don't exist. Trust fantasy writers to get it all wrong.

Hux picks up his brandy again and finishes the glass.

"Say something, would you?" Ren pleads.

"I can't," Hux says. "This is so surreal. I think I'm dead inside."

"I can pretend I didn't say anything if you want," Ren says. He looks like he feels bad, and suddenly Hux feels bad too.

Ren shared this with him. Even if it's insane, it was meant in a good way. Probably. "It's all right," Hux says.

"You just said you were dead inside."

"I'm just having a little trouble processing."

"I can give you a minute," Ren says. "I'll find a shirt." He stands up and disappears up the stairs, apparently comfortable enough in Hux's house to just walk up to his bedroom and root through his drawers without asking.

Once Ren is gone, Hux pinches himself, like people do in books when something unbelievable happens. And just like in the books, he doesn't wake up. He breathes in and out, and then he says "Fuck."

Ren comes back down the stairs wearing a clean shirt of Hux's, which is clearly too small for him. Hux hopes he didn't hear him swear. "Thank you for healing my hand," he says to Ren.

"It's no problem," Ren says, tugging the collar of the shirt away from his neck and then exhaling and sitting down. "I owed you, really."

Hux touches his mouth, a thought forming. "What do you normally do about clothes when you're out there as the creature? I don't suppose they stay on?"

"I have a few outfits hidden around the woods. I normally pack some in my school bag but I left it in class today."

"Were you-" Hux pauses, "In the middle of transforming when you dragged me out there?"

Ren nods. "It wasn't on purpose. It just started happening, and I thought, what better time than now to show you?" He shrugs.

Hux scratches his nose. "Maybe not in the middle of one of my lessons."

"Sorry."

"It's all right," he says. He feels like he says that a lot to Ren. "I'm just feeling a little edgy right now, I think."

Ren nods. "That would make sense."

Hux has so many questions he feels like his mind is going to overflow. He supposes it's fairly important that he knows why exactly Ren transforms, but he doesn't know how to ask. "How did it happen?" he stumbles out.

"I don't know," Ren says. "When I was fifteen it just started happening, and I sort of. Learned to live with it, I guess."

There's silence for a moment, and Hux fleetingly tries to order his racing thoughts before he gives up. Then something dawns on him. "Dear god," he says. "You ate a squirrel. You left its guts on my dashboard."

"Sorry," Ren says again, rubbing the skin under his collar. "It felt like a good idea at the time."

"Are you telling me you know what's happening when you're—in that form?"

Ren scrunches his face up. "I mean, on some level, I guess. But I don't have real control a lot."

"Altered consciousness," Hux states hesitantly.

Ren hums in agreement. "I forget everything as soon as it happens. I just go by instinct."

"What exactly were your instincts telling you when you smashed through my window and bit me?"

At that, Hux earns a scowl. "I didn't know what was going on," Kylo says. "It just happened, and I barely even saw what I was doing."

Admittedly, Hux hadn't considered that. "What was it like?"

Ren pulls his feet up onto the couch. "It's hard to remember, it all kinda disappears pretty quickly. But there's this awful taste of human blood in the back of my mouth when I wake up. And I just know I've done something bad."

A silence lingers between them again. Hux thinks about keeping his thoughts quiet, but the question is just itching to be asked, and he's itching for it to be answered. He licks his lips. "This has happened before? You've hurt people?"

Ren smooths his hands over his knees, waiting a few moments before he can form the word, "Yeah."

Hux breathes slowly. "Well, so have I." He raises his eyebrows. "I've killed people."

Ren's eyes are downcast. "So have I." His hands are trembling a little, and he looks guilty.

Hux's face changes, and he leans forward. He's feeling a rush of emotion, something like compassion, empathy. In the army you know from the moment you sign up that eventually you're going to have to kill somebody. You're prepared. And it feels bad but the country excuses you of your guilt, because it's for the greater good. Ren did not sign up for this. Ren has never been excused. "It wasn't you," Hux says. "You weren't in control."

Ren shifts in his seat. "I know," he mutters. "It wasn't even direct. I just... I make it happen, when I'm nearby. I make bad things happen to people."

"What do you mean? You mean you injure people without touching them?"

Ren nods. "There's this aura around me. Anyone who's near the creature for long enough just gets hurt."

"That's why you run away so often," Hux says. All of it is suddenly making sense, slotting together in his mind. He looks over at Ren. "Why has nothing terrible happened to me yet?"

"I have a theory," Ren begins. "I don't think you'd want to hear it."

Unsure why Ren might think that and a little worried, Hux plays it safe and nods. "Okay then." He pours himself another glass of brandy, to cope. He's coping.

"Can I have some?" Ren asks just as he's about to take a sip.

"Oh, hell," Hux mutters, and passes Ren his glass. Then he takes a swig straight from the bottle.

The room is silent while Hux lets the brandy calm his fried brain and Ren nurses his glass. His face twists every time he takes a sip, and Hux wonders if he's ever even touched alcohol before. His father seems the type that would be lenient with that sort of thing, but his mother comes across as quite the opposite.

"Thanks," Ren says into his glass. "I forgot to say."

"Welcome," Hux says. He picks up the bottle and takes another lazy gulp, then sets it down on the table with a clunk. "I'd just like to know—why did you tell me this?"

There's no response from Ren. He sinks further back into the couch, and seems to be hiding his face behind his glass.

"Kylo, why did you tell me?" Hux asks again. He still doesn't receive a response. "Are you looking to be absolved? Do you want comfort? Help? I can't give you any of that."

Ren shrugs, still avoiding looking Hux in the eye. "I just wanted to trust somebody, I guess."

Hux isn't sure what to say. He looks at Ren, who is staring into his glass like the meaning of life is written at the bottom of it. "I'll try to be someone trustworthy then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i just wanted to say thank you SO MUCH to everybody who's left kudos/commented on this fic! every kudos and especially every comment makes me so happy. im rlly sorry i don't reply often, im sick and it takes a lot out of me, but im having a lot of treatments so hopefully i'll get a bit better soon. anyway thanks again to everybody who reads this fic i love u with all of my stupid-ass arrhythmic heart!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't fear, this story isn't dead. ive had writers block, and i think it's gone away now. the next chapter should be published in 2 weeks like normal.

Once the initial shock of finding out that the creature is actually Ren (for heaven's sake,  _Kylo Ren)_ wears off, the revelation becomes less of a horror and more of fascination to Hux. He begins making notes about Ren's condition, adding as he learns, and jotting down observations and theories as they come to him. He reads his first notes, which he jotted down from memory the night after Ren told him, over and over some days, still in disbelief.

_-No concrete physical form, shifts slightly with each transformation_

_-Irregular transformations, seem to most often occur at night, otherwise no pattern_

_-Varying levels of altered consciousness: below human level intelligence, but selective impressions of memories remain_

_-Typically not in full control of his own actions (e.g. incident with the bite)_

_-'Dangerous aura ' phenomenon- apparently bad things as serious as death befall people in close proximity to the creature. Somehow I seem to be exempt._

It had been one thing for the creature to simply exist, but now having the knowledge that it is actually somebody Hux knows (and Ren, of all people) has changed everything.

The last part of the list... Hux spends hours thinking over what might be protecting him when he's around the creature. Surely there can't be something intrinsic about him that just leaves him invulnerable to that phenomenon. But if it isn't that, then the possibilities are endless, and Hux can't think of any sorts of experiments he could do to narrow it down.

Never mind. A reason will come soon, he tells himself. There's always a reason.

Contrarily, he has been crushing down any indication of what is causing his interest in Ren as a person, and not just as a supernatural phenomenon, every time it arises. He probably already knows by now, his mind has been trying to tell him for some time, but he refuses to listen. He is horrified by his own emotions, still reeling from the fact that Ren considers him as a confidant and probably a friend—he cannot accept that he reciprocates the feeling, and possibly even more so, too. Besides, it will pass, hopefully. (Although a part of him almost hopes it remains forever.)

From behind him, Ren is looking at the notepad on Hux's knee. "Is that about me?" he asks, nosing over Hux's shoulder.

They're on the school grounds, on the bench in the corner out of the view of other classrooms. It's Hux's free period, and he ought to be spending it marking, but he'd rather be here. It's Ren's history lesson, and he doesn't want to be there. Of course, if Hux left for the staff room, then maybe Ren would go to history, but he doesn't want to give that a try in case it works.

"Yes," Hux says. "It's just private notes."

"You can't forbid me from reading it," Ren insists. "That's not—"

"Private to the public," Hux scowls. "You're allowed to see, Ren. It's about you."

Ren leans over Hux's shoulder and skims the page. "Cool." He stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks round to sit next to Hux. "You know, you could call me Kylo. Instead of Ren all the time."

"I do call you Kylo sometimes. When I'm... marginally less annoyed at you."

"You could call it me more often. I mean, you could have called it me before, actually."

Hux spins the pen in his hands. "I didn't want to."

Curious, Ren draws his legs up onto the bench and turns to sit cross-legged facing Hux. "Why?"

"Because you were a little brat," Hux says.

"Aren't I still a brat?"

"Absolutely. But I've learned to tolerate you."

"Good to know I haven't lost my touch," Ren grins cheekily.

"No, certainly not," Hux says, closing his notebook and crossing his legs so that he's angled towards Ren.

"All right," Ren says. "What can I call you then?"

"Sorry?"

"If you're calling me Kylo, I want to know your name."

"You already know that it's Hux."

Ren frowns at him. "Can't I call you something else?"

"No," Hux says. "My name is Hux."

"Haven't you a first name? What's on your birth certificate?"

"It just says Hux," Hux teases.

Ren scoffs, apparently not picking up on the joke. "No, it doesn't. Everybody has a name."

Hux presses his lips together, then finally speaks. "My first name is Armitage, and I'd prefer never to be called it again, ever, if possible."

"Armitage," Ren says, trying it out. "Arm. Armie." Then something in his eyes sparks, and he tries to keep from laughing. "Your name is Armie and you're a general in the army. That's perfect."

"Is there anything you can't make a joke out of?"

"It's a gift of mine, Armie Sunshine."

Sighing, Hux fixes a look on Kylo. "You are incredibly frustrating, you realise that, child?"

Ren gives him a shove at that. "I ain't a child, I'm going to be eighteen real soon. It's my birthday in two weeks."

"Oh?" Hux wonders if he ought to buy him something. It doesn't look like anybody other than his parents will. But it's quite the gesture for a teacher to make towards a student, and he can't let Ren know that he likes him as much as he does.

"I should have a party," Ren muses. "People would turn up if I made it really boss."

Teenagers are remarkably fickle, and Hux doesn't doubt that they would despite the general disapproval they usually show towards Kylo. He also doesn't doubt that they would leave immediately if the party wasn't exactly to their liking, and then proceed to complain about it for the rest of their school lives. "I don't know about that," Hux says. "I think there might be trouble if you invited more than a few people."

Ren rolls his eyes like it's obvious: "If I don't invite everyone, no one will go."

"But do you even like anyone in your year? I thought you hated them all."

"I do," Ren scoffs. "Haven't you worked it out yet? It doesn't matter, I live off of attention."

"That's very self aware of you," Hux comments.

"I s'pose." Ren picks a leaf off the overhanging tree, and starts to rip it up.

"Listen," Hux says, taking the silence as an opportunity. "I'd like to talk to you about something."

Interested, Ren looks up from his leaf. "Go on."

Hux proceeds, cautiously. "I'd like to conduct a few experiments to learn more about your condition." Ren pulls a face, so Hux quickly elaborates, "Just out of curiosity. I don't intend to reveal them to some scientific journal if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried. I'd just rather not be turned into one big science project."

"It could help you understand yourself better. We could look for triggers, patterns in the transformations."

Unsure, Ren purses his lips, and crumples the leaf in his hands.

Hux tries to sell it further. "You could manage the transformations, have more control over yourself. It could be of great benefit to you, actually."

"Okay," Ren says. "What would I have to do?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I doubt it'll be much. I just need you to observe yourself. I'll be making notes, too."

Ren taps the book on Hux's knee. "You thought about what'll happen if somebody finds that notebook?"

"Ah," Hux says with a frown. He opens the book to the first page, and scrawls _'FANTASY NOVEL NOTES'_ at the top.

That gets a laugh from Ren. "Cunning."

Hux closes the book. "So will you let me?"

The bell sounds, and Hux sighs. Ren doesn't give him an answer, just sprinkles the ripped pieces of his leaf over the ground.

"I'd better go in," Hux says. "Think about it, will you?"

"I will," says Ren.

"And think about whether it's really a good idea to have that party, too." Hux stands up, and slides the notebook into the inside pocket of his blazer.

Ren catches his gaze. "Will you do something with me instead?"

"Pardon?"

"If I don't have the party, will you hang out with me on my birthday?" Ren asks. "You know, like friends."

Hux is probably making an expression that gives away a little too much. He tries to relax his face. "I don't know." (That is a lie, he would say yes in an instant if it weren't so inappropriate.) "I'll give it some thought." (He has already made up his mind.)

"Cool. See you tomorrow then?"

"9 AM sharp," Hux nods. "First period. You'd better be there—and you'd better have finished that essay."

Chatter echoes from the other side of the playground. The other students are starting to litter the grounds, a few of them drifting in the direction of Hux and Ren, and Hux starts to leave.

"If I do all my homework and turn up to all my classes for the next two weeks, and don't have the party," Ren says quickly, "Will you hang out with me on my birthday?"

It's a good bargain, Hux thinks. Ren usually only manages to hand in one or two pieces of homework a week at the most. Deliberating, Hux glances over the teenagers gathering in groups on the grounds, all of them clustered together and nobody standing on their own like Ren does every day, unless he's got a particularly gnarly injury that's briefly captured everyone's attention. None of the children on the playground pay any mind to the hunched over teen with messy hair in the corner and the teacher in the tweed jacket. They probably think Hux is giving Ren a good telling off. He supposes he owes it to Ren to make him feel like somebody cares—it's what a decent person would do. And Phasma seems to want him to start being a decent person. "All right. You have a deal," he says. For Phasma's sake.

Ren grins, and Hux turns to go inside. As he walks away he ignores the odd sensation in his chest brought on by the fact that this is the first time he and Ren will be meeting for recreational reasons. It's a useless human response that doesn't even correlate to the situation, so Hux crushes it far down, along with his genuine concern for Ren and Phasma's wellbeing and his bizarre desire to stare at Ren's face. They're all things too illogical to allow to float around his mind untethered.

When Hux gets back to his classroom, Phasma is waiting for him. "What were you two talking about over there?" She nods out the window, to the far side of the grounds where Ren is still sitting, engrossed in his leaf but looking considerably lighter than usual.

"Nothing much," Hux says, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Phasma is sitting on one of the desks, her legs hanging over the edge. One of her smart red heeled shoes has been kicked off. "And what's the notebook for?" she asks innocently.

"I'm tutoring him," Hux says.

Her eyes glint. "You wouldn't mind showing me the work you've done, would you?"

Hux gives her a snippy look. "All right, it's not work. He trusted me with something quite significant. And it isn't your business to know what."

In a sharp second, Phasma's expression changes. It's unreadable, but Hux thinks he detects a hint of anxiety. "Did he now?"

"Yes," Hux says cautiously. He considers: it would probably be safest if he lied from here on out. "A family matter that needs working out."

Phasma still looks a little edgy, but vaguely placated. "Well, that's nice. As long as it won't get you into any trouble."

"Shouldn't do."

"What have you been up to, then?" asks Phasma, sliding off her other shoe with her foot and resting back on her hands. "I haven't seen you in a couple of weeks."

"Busy," Hux says. He sinks into his desk chair and tries not to look out the window to where Ren is sitting on the bench, fiddling with the zip on his leather jacket. "Catching up with my own thoughts. I went to the staff room for once, actually."

"Aw, shit," Phasma grins. "Mrs Abbot didn't tell you the story about her husband's foot, did she?"

An amused smile makes its way into Hux's face. "She did."

The two of them talk and catch up until the end of lunch, when the bell rings and Phasma heads off to assist her mysterious class, flashing Hux a rosy smile before she goes. When his class returns, he sets a dull task for them to get on with by themselves while he jots down practical plans in his notebook, suddenly feeling glad he paid attention in biology class—or at least enough to cobble together a rough plan for his experiment.

_**Control** \- We are investigating what factors contribute to KR's transformations, if any. KR will observe his transformations closely several times as the control before we attempt induction, noting down what potential triggers occurred on the day preceding. Using the data on potential triggers gathered in this time, we will attempt to force a transformation._

_**Organism** \- KR: seventeen year old male, 6'2 est., healthy._

_**Replication** \- We will attempt to induce transformation as many times_ _as we can until three successful transformations have occurred and method efficacy has been established._

_**Measure** \- KR will measure his mood, physical activity and stress levels each day to see if _ _there is a pattern on the days before transformation. We will note our success and the contributing circumstances to any successful transformations purposely induced._

_**Same** \- On every occasion the location will be the woods, the time will be evening and the subject will be KR. The same potential triggers will be used to attempt to induce transformation until it is clear they are not having any effect._

Hux shows Ren his plan after their lesson the next morning, and Ren gives him a very blank stare.

"This is how you plan a practical experiment," Hux explains. "You skipped a lot of biology, didn't you?"

"Possibly," Ren says slowly. "Hey, why did you put that I'm seventeen? You know I'm almost eighteen."

Hux twitches. "All right then." He crosses out seventeen and jots, in quotation marks, 'almost eighteen'. "You know it won't make any difference to the experiment, don't you?"

"I don't want you making me out to be younger than I really am."

"Nobody is going to see this but you and me," Hux splutters. "Well, it doesn't matter. All I want you to do is rate those three factors out of ten every day." Hux taps the page. "Mood, physical activity and stress."

"That doesn't sound too hard," Ren says. He looks like he's on the edge of skepticism.

"It shouldn't be. I'm doing most of the work," Hux says. "Please do be honest though, don't be afraid to document it if your mood is low or it'll be inaccurate."

"Why would I be afraid?" Ren demands. "I'm not a kid. I'm not scared of my own emotions."

Amused, Hux looks up from the notebook. "I'm surprised you even admit to having emotions at all."

"I'm more grown up than you think."

Hux holds back a smile. "The mere fact that you used the phrase 'grown up' suggests that you're exactly as childish as I think."

Ren's face scrunches up in infuriation. He's the spitting image of an over-expressive five year old trying to get what he wants from his mother by manipulating her emotions. Hux respects that, in a way—manipulation is a tactic most are afraid to use, once they're past early childhood—but Hux certainly goes about it in a much smoother and smarter way than Ren.

Briefly, Hux entertains the thought that perhaps the reason he's so interested in Ren is because he's so strikingly different to himself, and to Phasma—he's the polar opposite of the type of person Hux would usually associate with. Where Hux is a cool liar, Ren is fiery and blunt. Where Hux is shrewd and observant, Ren is outright and makes no attempt at assessing a situation before diving right in.

At least neither of them make any attempt at social correctness, Hux thinks. Small talk makes his soul shrivel up inside. He pats Ren's forearm. "You know I'll treat you like an adult as soon as you start acting like one."

Hux's next class begin to file into the classroom, and Hux gives Ren a nudge in the direction of the door.

"You're so mean to me," Ren mutters so that the other students can't hear.

"Oh, hush," whispers Hux. "I'm wonderful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally flunked biology so i kinda just bullshitted my way through the experiment plan. if any of u have any corrections or anything im happy to accept them.


	15. Chapter 15

The creature visits Hux the next night, impossibly slipping in through a cracked-open window and trotting up to him while he's reading the newspaper in the living room. He doesn't read the paper often for the tediousness of it (—what's the purpose of knowing current events if there isn't anything you can do about them, and if they're going to change in a week anyway?), but he had succumbed to the distraction just this once to take his mind off all the recent happenings. He sets down the paper in his lap and looks down at the creature. "Hello, Kylo."

It's the first time the creature has come to Hux after he found out that it is actually Ren. (He feels a little wrong using 'it' pronouns for the creature when he is well aware that underneath all of that awful straggly fur is Kylo, but he's become so accustomed to it that feels strange to try to break the habit.)

Hux isn't sure whether he should try to acknowledge that Ren might be under there, aware of what's happening, or act like he normally would around the creature. It's disconcerting to think that Hux had built up a clear image in his mind of who the creature was, and who Ren was, and now he has to fuse the two separate entities together. Maybe it would just be easier, when he's around the creature, to pretend that it isn't Ren at all. It's very difficult to come to terms with the fact that the monster standing in his living room, breathing in great heaving pants and staring at him with slitted pupils, is actually the irritating almost-eighteen year old who sits in Hux's class five hours a week.

"What're you doing here, then?" Hux asks the creature. "You want a friend?"

The creature shuffles closer to Hux, like a dog searching for a scratch behind the ears.

Hux obliges. "I don't know if you're in there, Ren, but I'm probably going to keep talking to you anyway."

In response, the creature offers a tilt of the head. Hux wonders if Ren is aware of what's happening and just unable to express it, or if his mind is totally buried under the creature's impulses. He shakes his head, and goes back to his paper.

"'US performs atmospheric nuclear test at Enewetak'," he reads out. "That sounds sinister. I'm blown away by how little I care."

With large eyes, the creature looks up at him, as if it's listening earnestly. Then it glances between Hux's face and the paper. It wants him to read more, he gathers. Hux makes the assumption that Ren is not particularly close to the surface, and it's the creature's pseudo-intelligent mind that wants stimulation (as opposed to Ren wanting genuine entertainment). To test this out, Hux picks out an advertisement for nylon stockings and reads it aloud, studying the creature's reaction in the corner of his eye.

The creature seems very interested, and tilts its head again when Hux stops reading. As far as Hux is aware, Ren is not looking to learn about Hansen's quality ladies' stockings. He goes along with his theory that Ren is not really present right now, and pats the space on the couch next to him. "Come up here, then," he says to the creature. "Story time."

The creature leaps up and settles on the other side of the sofa, curled up like a giant domestic dog, and Hux goes back to his newspaper again. It's comfortably quiet in between the snippets that he reads aloud, in a way that wouldn't be possible if it was the human Ren that was there (—especially if he was lying down and half asleep, with the breath from his nostrils making Hux's knee damp).

Hux feels relaxed, enough so that he doesn't feel compelled to shut the curtains to protect his privacy like he usually does in the evening. Luckily this means he's staring idly out one of the living room windows when Phasma appears on his street, walking in the direction of his house.

 _"Hell,"_ he says. He's on his feet in a second, not sure if he should ask the creature to go and hide or just shove it in a cupboard and apologise to the human Ren later. The creature lifts its head, oblivious, and Hux frantically pushes it off the couch and ushers it upstairs. He shuts it in his bedroom, and tells it, "I'll explain later, please don't go anywhere," as clearly as he can through the crack in the door, before pushing it shut and hurrying downstairs. He hopes that Ren has at least a little control over the creature's body, or failing that, that the creature's independent brain has some common sense, otherwise he'll be entirely done for.

When Phasma knocks at the door, Hux is still breathing a little heavily, and he takes a quick swig straight from his brandy bottle to calm his nerves before he goes to let her in.

"You look a bit funny," is the first thing Phasma says to him when he opens the door.

"Thank you for informing me," Hux says, in a feigned haughty tone. "You're looking lovely, as usual."

Phasma pushes past Hux, and Hux closes the door behind her. She walks slowly through the hallway into the living room, looking around, and Hux panics slightly that she's going to see something out of place and start throwing accusations at him. But she sits down in the armchair coolly, takes her coat off, and smiles at him. Nothing amiss. Until she sees the window the creature broke last week with a tarp pinned over it. "What the fuck happened to your window?" she asks.

Caught out, Hux panics. He breathes in, pretending he knows what he's about to say, and without thinking, comes out with, "I was angry about some students that had been misbehaving all day and shot it." As soon as the words have left his mouth he knows he's made an awful, terrible mistake. 

"Gosh," Phasma says, sounding impressed but not particularly fazed. "Didn't think you'd have it in you. I just thought you'd be one to direct your emotions inward."

"I do, normally," Hux says, sitting down on the couch opposite her, relieved that she believed his lie. "I was worn out, and I just snapped."

Plasma shrugs. "I've been there."

"So," Hux says. "Any particular reason you felt like dropping by at ten in the evening?"

"Do I need an excuse to visit my dearest friend?"

Hux gives her a look. "Yes, if it's this late at night."

With a dry chuckle, Phasma lifts Hux's brandy bottle from the table. "Sorry. Drink?"

"I've already had one. You help yourself."

Phasma does, pouring a liberal sloshing of brandy into one of the crystal glasses from the shelf.

After around a minute of watching Phasma leisurely sipping at her glass, Hux gets tired of waiting for her to explain herself. "Why are you here?" he asks.

She sets the glass down and reclines in her chair. "Felt like checking up on you. You've been acting differently lately."

"No, I haven't," Hux says. "I'm always this erratic. Why are you really here?

Phasma sets her eyes on him. "A little birdie told me that you left the classroom with a student in the middle of a lesson last week. For over an _hour."_

Subtly, Hux scans her face for any sign she knows that it was Ren.

She scoffs, immediately cottoning on. "I know it was Ren."

Hux thinks long and hard on his response. "He wasn't feeling very well," is apparently the best he can come up with after an entire sixty seconds of silence.

"Horseshit," Phasma says. "You are doing a brilliant job of keeping out of trouble, aren't you? The entire class saw. What will they be thinking? What will they be telling their parents?"

"I don't know," Hux says. "I don't care, if I'm being honest with you."

"You will care when they're writing to the principal and asking to have you investigated. Or _fired—"_

"They won't fire me," Hux snaps. "I'm a good teacher, and I'm a veteran, for god's sakes."

"All right, then I'll personally fire you!" Phasma gets up onto her feet. "You're fired from friendship," she says.

Hux can hardly hold his laughter for three seconds. "Dear, do you know how ridiculous you sound?"

A little pink in the face, Phasma pushes her alice band further back on her head. "Fairly," she says, then sits back down. "But you really are acting like a big sack of potatoes with how clumsy you're getting. You've got to stop doing all these stupid things."

"They all seem very logical at the time, I assure you. And besides, it was Ren who dragged me out. He needed to talk to me about something important."

"In relation to this family problem of his, I presume."

"Yes," Hux says. "A very pressing matter. And I was sure to tell him off about disrupting the lesson, once he was finished."

Phasma nods, and relaxes. Her eyes fall somewhere next to Hux's knee, on the couch, and she squints. "Is that—cat hair?"

"No," Hux says, perhaps a little too quickly. "I have a very shoddily sewn jumper. It's been shedding everywhere."

There's an amused quirk to Phasma's mouth as she replies, "I certainly wouldn't have had you down as the sort of person to own a fluffy sweater."

"Yes, well," Hux says. "You don't know everything about me."

"Seems so." Phasma says, reclining back further in the armchair. "Anyway, how has this pet project of yours been going? Disregarding what happened last week."

"Well, I'd say. Strange, but well."

"You haven't figured out your motivation yet?"

Hux shakes his head. "No," he says. It's a blatant lie: he's certainly figured it out, but he's suppressing it in the pits of his mind for the time being. He doesn't hear the word _attachment_ when he thinks about it. All he hears is _horrible, disgusting, weak_ —all more accurate synonyms for the word, in his eyes.

He isn't sure whether Phasma can tell if he's lying or not this time. Either way she can see his discomfort with trying to figure it out, though. "I'm sure it'll come, in time," she says placidly.

Hux hums in agreement, trying not to sound distracted. He's thinking about Ren, wondering what he's doing upstairs, worrying that he might pull one of those impossible creature escapes through the crack underneath his bedroom door and whiz right past Hux and Phasma at supernatural speed. He can practically feel his blood pressure rising as he tries to think of some way to ask Phasma to scram. Well, there's no better way than straight out, he supposes. "I don't mean to sound rude," he says, "But now you've grilled me on everything under the sun, are you planning on leaving?"

"In a hurry to get back to something?" Phasma asks.

"Yes, actually." Hux runs a hand through his hair, thinking up another quick lie. "I have work to mark, and I prefer to do it on my own." Not bad, Hux thinks. In fact, it's partially true. He does have work to mark, he simply wasn't planning on doing it tonight.

"Well then," Phasma says. "Duty calls." She stands up, plucks one of the creature's hairs off Hux's knee and drops it on the floor, and walks towards the door. "Let me know if you figure anything out about this business with Ren."

"I will," Hux says, hovering on the edge of his seat as he waits to hear the sound of the front door closing. The door makes a telltale clicking noise, and Hux rushes up the stairs, his heart rate accelerated. When he gets to his bedroom, the creature is curled up on the floor. It looks up at him lazily. Hux feels like if it could speak right now, it'd be saying _"I can't believe you wouldn't trust me."_

"You can't blame me for worrying," Hux says, catching his breath. "Just because you're half-conscious this time doesn't mean you will be every time."

Hux uses the word 'conscious' in reference to Ren being present in the creature's mind as opposed to dormant, but he's beginning to wonder if that really is the case. He had assumed that Ren's mind had at least partially surfaced at some point in the past few minutes, and that is what enabled the creature to listen to what he said and stay upstairs, but it's occurring to him that perhaps Ren never surfaced at all. Perhaps the creature has its own semi-intelligent brain, and it did what Hux said all by itself. Perhaps the creature and Ren are separate entities after all, albeit two that exist inside the same form. Hux wonders if thy have to fight for dominance every time Ren transforms. Instinct versus intelligence.

Hux shakes his head at himself. He does not have the energy to think about this right now, not after that tense encounter with Phasma. He looks down at the creature on the floor, who gives a sniff and settles its chin back on its front legs stretched out in front of it.

"I should get back to my paper," Hux says. Or maybe he should actually do that marking he told Phasma he was going to do.

In the end he settles for the slightly morally superior option of making his lie into a truth, and sits down to mark the work at the kitchen table, with the creature loitering about at his feet. The essays aren't on a particularly difficult subject to mark, but it's late, so the house is painfully quiet, and every noise is clear and magnified, jolting Hux's concentration slightly each time they pierce the silence. The creature's claws make soft clinks on the tiled floor as it wanders around the kitchen, the clock in the living room ticks hollowly, and suddenly the lid of Hux's fountain pen rolls off the table and clatters onto the floor. Hux doesn't pick it up—the next essay in the pile has captured his focus instead. It's Ren's. Kylo doesn't usually hand in work. Perhaps he's taking their deal seriously.

Hux is still a little unsure why Kylo wants to spend his birthday with him of all people. He supposes that it's just because he gives him attention, something that Kylo seems to thrive on. Maybe he just values that Hux doesn't write him off like everybody else.

As he reads through the essay, Hux is surprised at the quality of Ren's work. It's not good, but it's better than he'd expected. He scribbles _C_  at the bottom of the page, then puts down his pen so he can reach over and scratch the creature's ears. "See," he says, directed at Ren, "You're not bad if you just put in the effort."

The creature blinks at Hux, and he pats its head. "It's not even the lowest grade in the class," he carries on. "Olivers got a D."

They sit in silence for a while, Hux marking contently and the creature mooching about in the kitchen, until Hux starts to feel worn out. He caps the lid on his pen, shuffles the papers into a pile, and stands up. "I'm going to bed," he tells the creature. "I want you to stay here if you can. No wandering the town. Unless there's a chance you might break my house if you don't leave."

The creature looks up at him. Hux wonders if Ren is in there, and if he isn't, if the creature will obey by itself again.

He goes to bed.

—

In the morning, Hux comes downstairs to find the human Kylo asleep on his couch, wearing one of the outfits from Hux's clean laundry basket. Judging by the evidence, _somebody_ listened to him last night; whether it was the creature or Ren he'll have to find out later.

Hux stands there in the living room for a moment. It's strange seeing Kylo in his clothes, since they're about seven years out of fashion and three sizes too small. Kylo is lucky Hux likes his slacks loose, Hux thinks with a quiet huff of breath, or else he'd never have been able to fit into them at all.

The sun shines through the curtains (and the tarp), and casts warm shadows on Kylo's face. The light should wake him soon enough, Hux decides. He leaves Kylo asleep, and goes into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. He takes an apple from the fruit bowl and sits down at the table, taking a bite out of it. The radio sits on the counter, untouched for the past few days, and he switches it on, picking a news station at random and listening to the presenter talk about the recent increase in support for President Eisenhower as he eats his apple.

Just as the coffee is done brewing, Ren comes into the kitchen. His hair is fluffed from sleep and he clearly hasn't had a chance to look in the mirror yet, and Hux is almost embarrassed at how endearing he finds it.

Ren sits down in the kitchen chair opposite Hux. "Sorry I stole your clothes," he says, stretching. "I guessed that this would be better than falling asleep on your couch naked."

"You guessed correctly," Hux says, pouring his coffee into the cup on the table. "Coffee?"

"No," Ren says. He eyes Hux's half-eaten apple. "Do you have any more apples?"

"In the fruit bowl." Hux nods at the counter.

Ren picks out a green apple and takes a bite, while Hux sips his coffee. When Hux looks up again Ren is looking at his mug. "You don't take any sugar in your coffee at all?" Ren asks.

"I suppose not," Hux says. "Sugar was rationed when I started drinking coffee so I never used it. Then when they stopped rationing I never cared to try it."

"Huh," Ren says. "My mom would save all our sugar rations for me when I was younger."

Hux smiles a little. "Your mother is a good woman."

"I guess she does love me a lot," Ren says, his mouth curving up. He takes another few bites out of his apple. "When they ended sweet rationing she gave me ten whole dollars to go the store and buy as much candy as I wanted. I used it all."

"They ended sweet rations in '53," Hux says, raising an eyebrow. "You were what, fifteen? Sixteen, back then?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Nothing," Hux says, but his smile grows. "You're just a child at heart, aren't you?"

"So... I have the mind of an adult?" Ren coaxes.

Hux shakes his head, chuckling. "I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"Why are you so desperate for people to think you're mature?"

Ren answers with a frown on his face. "Because I hate not being taken seriously," he says.

The coffee in the pot is cooling down. Hux tops up his mug and takes a drink before it turns cold. "I'll take you seriously if you want me to."

"You won't," Ren says. "As soon as I say something stupid you'll get all sarcastic."

"How's this: I'll take you seriously when you start saying serious things."

Ren looks at the table, then back up at Hux. "Okay, I suppose you've got me there."

A short theme plays on the radio, and the presenter says, 'It's seven thirty AM, here's the news,' and Hux stands up and puts his apple core in the trash and his coffee mug in the sink. "We have to get to school," he says, picking up Ren's apple core by the stem and discarding it too. "I can drive you, if you want."

"Doesn't your car still have that massive dent in it?" Ren asks.

"Yes, but it works nonetheless," Hux says. "Thank you for that dent, by the way. It was a deer carcass that made it. My guess is that the creature left it as a little gift for me."

Ren can't help but laugh. "I left a dead deer on the bonnet of your car?"

Hux nods, walking towards the front door. "It was quite a traumatic experience. I had to drive the car to the woods with the deer still on the bonnet so I could get rid of it. Couldn't very well heave it into my trunk, could I?"

"Sorry," Ren says, but there's still a hint of laughter in his voice. He follows Hux towards the door, but then stops when Hux gets his keys out. "Wait," he says. "I can't go to school wearing your clothes, people will stare."

"Oh," Hux says, and pauses. "How about I drive you home so you can get some of your own clothes, and you walk the rest of the way to school? It's not far."

"Okay," Ren says. "It'd be weird if we turned up in the same car, anyway."

They leave after that, Kylo in the passenger seat and Hux driving, and other than the faint worry of being seen by someone from school, the journey to Kylo's house is pleasant and quiet. For once Kylo isn't breathing heavily or fidgeting. He seems comfortable, and for some reason Hux finds that that brings him a small sense of happiness. He feels somewhat proud of how his relationship with Kylo has evolved, although he has mixed feelings about labelling it friendship despite the fact that it can't really be anything else.

Nobody has ever trusted Hux as much as Kylo seems to right now. He would have thought that he would balk at the idea of that sort of responsibility, but instead it brings him a sort of pleasant warmth, and a part of him wants to feel the same way in return, wants to trust Kylo that much—simultaneously though, the thought of being that weak makes his stomach turn.

The church where Hux first dropped Kylo off the night that it was raining comes into view, and Kylo asks Hux to pull over. With an awkward thank you and goodbye, Kylo climbs out and shuts the door. The house is still a bit of a walk from where Hux has parked—Kylo doesn't want to have to explain to his parents what he's doing in Hux's car, Hux gathers, but he's still going to have to come up with an excuse for why he's wearing someone else's clothes.

What will Kylo tell his parents when he disappears to go out with Hux on his birthday? Kylo has been upholding his end of the deal well, Hux has never seen such effort in his work before, so it looks likely that it's happening. Ren runs away every other day, but his parents will surely be expecting him to stay home on his birthday.

It's not Hux's problem to worry about, he supposes. He starts the engine and turns back onto the road to school again.

—

Three days go by. It's Kylo's birthday on Saturday tomorrow, and Kylo is sitting on top of one of the desks in Hux's classroom, in after school 'detention' for talking back to Hux in their lesson. The class seemed to perceive Kylo's impertinent words as simple backchat, automatic from any rebellious child—but from the look on Kylo's face, Hux couldn't help but feel that there was some kind of game going on that he wasn't aware of. Eventually he comes to the simple conclusion that Kylo was probably just inconveniencing Hux for his own enjoyment. Either that or he wanted to spend even more time with Hux in detention, but that's hardly feasible.

Having finished marking the last book of notes, Hux puts it on the pile on his desk, and looks up at Kylo. "Where did you have in mind for tomorrow?" he asks.

Kylo is sitting on the desk closest to Hux's with a paper balanced on his lap, allegedly doing homework. He has written three lines in an hour and a half, and seems very glad to talk to Hux instead of pretending to be thinking about the First World War. "There's a diner near the movie theatre," he offers. "It's good. They do malts."

"Is that supposed to entice me in?" Hux chuckles.

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll have some adult drink you'll like too."

Kylo's words put distance between them again, reminding Hux that he's an adult and ought to be acting like one. Not chatting with a student instead of telling him to buckle down and work, certainly not going out to a diner with him on his birthday like the two of them are best buddies. It's just so easy for Hux to go along with everything that Kylo does.

Hux should be more aware of how strange this friendship is and act more carefully. But it's just so easy not to. Easier than being sarcastic with Phasma, and easier than being intimidating to students who act up.

Several moments later Hux realises that he hasn't said anything for long enough that Ren is staring at him, eyebrows raised as he waits for Hux to come back to earth. "Good, good," Hux says. "Adult drink."

"I mean," Ren says, "I don't think they'll do alcohol. It is mostly kids that go there."

Hux scoffs. "I wasn't expecting a milkshake bar to sell alcohol. Imagine. _'I'll have a hot dog, please, with a martini float to drink'_."

Ren laughs, and scuffs his shoe on the leg of the desk. He catches Hux's eye, and sticks his tongue out between his teeth.

As accustomed to Ren's immaturity as Hux is, it still startles him a little. "Don't stick your tongue out at me."

Ren just smiles even wider. "I'll do what I like, thank you. It's five forty five." He nods at the clock on the wall. "Detention's over."

"Very smart, Ren," Hux says, rolling his eyes. "I take it you'll at least be spending the night before your birthday with your family?"

Kylo nods and slides off the table. "Will you drive me home?"

Hux acquiesces, and drives Ren to the spot by the church near his house. Ren says, "See you tomorrow," when he gets out the car, and Hux's eyes catch on him for a little too long.

"Yes," Hux says. "See you tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit im living. big stuff happens next chapter at the diner. big stuff guys. b ready


	16. Chapter 16

Hux stands on the sidewalk looking at the front of the restaurant diner as Kylo climbs out the passenger seat of the car. _Flo's Diner,_ the neon red sign proclaims. The warm glow spilling from the windows below the sign is almost as inviting as the prospect of spending time with Kylo.

There's a slam as Kylo shuts the car door. He walks around to stand by Hux, and they make their way towards the entrance. "If anyone asks," Kylo says, "You're my uncle."

"Ah," says Hux, turning to him. "The resemblance is uncanny."

Ren chuckles as he pushes open the windowed door. The inside of the diner is as warm and toasty as it had looked from outside. It's a comfortable change in temperature from the breezy outdoors, but Hux much preferred the sight of the pavement and the edge of the woods to the glaring decor of the diner. The floor is checkered black and white, and the walls are covered with Coca Cola posters and kitschy decals of smiling milkshakes and sandwiches. There's a buzz of chatter and laughter from the teenagers sat on the row of stools by the window, and Hux takes a look at them hastily to make sure he doesn't recognise any of them before he goes in any further. Ren seems to be doing the same when Hux turns to him, and he shakes his head, so they wander over to the seats with proper chairs and sit down opposite each other at a table.

The seat cushions are the same shade of cherry red as the sign, and made of slightly tarnished leather. Hux settles into his chair, and his eyes wander about the room. There's so much on the walls, he can barely process it all.

"I guess it's a lot to take in," Kylo says, "If you're just used to plain wallpaper."

Hux nods. It feels like a culture shock. He's never seen so much clutter plastered around a room and passed off as decoration. "Have you been here before?" he asks Kylo.

"I used to come here with Rey," Kylo says. He picks one of the menus up and scans over it, trying to seem nonchalant. "She liked strawberry malts the best."

Hux watches Kylo's face, trying to work out what to say. "You two were close."

"We used to hang out every day. People thought we were dating," Kylo says with a smile on his face.

An older waitress with her hair in a beehive comes up to their table, and Hux realises he hasn't even looked at the menu yet.

"Hiya there, boys," she smiles. Her lip liner is drawn on in a perfect Cupid's bow, the outline filled in with bright red lipstick. "What can I get for you?"

Kylo looks up. "A chocolate malt and a grilled cheese for me. And—" he looks over at Hux, "Black coffee, no sugar."

"Anything else?" the waitress asks as she jots down their order on her pad.

"No thank you," Hux says. He smiles politely, and the waitress smiles back and leaves.

Kylo stands the menu back on the table, and pulls his feet up onto the seat.

Hux should tell him to put his feet back on the floor. Instead, he says, "You have a knack for remembering what drinks people like." He tries to guard his expression, and suppress the strange warmth that's bubbling up in his chest just because Kylo remembered how he likes his coffee.

"I guess," Kylo says. "It's not hard to remember stuff about people I like."

Head tilted, Hux leans forward over the table slightly. It's white with a red checked pattern laid on top, clashing with the floor. Hux keeps his eyes on Kylo's face instead, a significantly less unpleasant sight. "Why do you like me, Kylo?" Hux asks.

"You're interesting," Kylo says. "You're smart."

"I'm a teacher. It's to be expected."

"You're Mr Sunshine."

Hux scoffs at that, but he's smiling too.

Across the table, Kylo nudges the menu to the side. "What is it you like about me?" he asks.

Slightly taken aback, Hux is quiet for a moment. Surely he should have anticipated being asked this in response. He takes a moment. What does he like about Ren? He likes Ren's bluntness, he likes how sure of himself he is even when he could afford to be doubtful. He likes that he'll make a joke out of anything. Although he hates that about him just as often. He also likes looking at Ren's face for long periods of time, but he'll keep that to himself.

Kylo is looking at him intently from across the table. "I know you must like me at least a little, otherwise you wouldn't do so much smiling when I'm around."

"Solid reasoning," Hux says. "Although I could just be laughing at how ridiculously you act all the time."

Kylo smiles like the cat that got the canary. "I know you're not. So what is it you like about me?"

"I don't know," Hux says, after a pause. "I like you, that's all."

The waitress appears again with their food and drinks before Ren can say anything cocky in response, and Hux is thankful when Ren starts biting into his grilled cheese. It'll be hard for him to make some quip about his irresistible charm with a mouth full of chewed up bread and cheese.

Hux is just finishing his coffee and Kylo is only halfway through his malt when he swears loudly and stands up. Hux bats his arm for cursing and tries to sit him back down, but Kylo seems to be distracted staring at something behind Hux. Hux tries to turn around to see what has Kylo acting so strangely, but before he can look Kylo is tugging him frantically across the room and through the two doors into the restrooms.

"What in the hell is going on?" he asks Kylo once the bathroom door is closed.

"Fuck, fuck," Kylo blurts. "My uncle is here." His eyes are wide and panicked. "My uncle who I had a massive fight with—"

"I thought he moved out of state," Hux says.

Kylo looks around the bathroom hastily, confirming that it's empty, then fixes his eyes on Hux. "Yes, he did," he says. "Because he knows, about the whole creature thing, he found out and he thought I might hurt my cousin, and I said he couldn't take her away because she was my best friend, so we had a huge argument and I bit his ear off, and—"

Hux wraps his hands around Kylo's upper arms and holds him steady. "You bit off your uncle's ear—not while you were _human?"_

"No!" Kylo snaps. "I transformed the next night, and he was out in his yard and I guess the monster part just took over." He pulls a strange sort of grimace. "And it was just a piece of it, he can still hear. He just wears his hair kinda shaggy now to cover it up."

Calmly incredulous, Hux removes one hand from Kylo's arm and pinches the bridge of his own nose. He wonders if suggesting that the Solos should ask Rey and Luke to come back to town was an unwise move.

"God," Kylo moans. "He's come to kill me, hasn't he? To take revenge."

Hux sighs and pats Kylo's shoulder. "He is not coming to kill you." He considers how he should tell Kylo the truth, that Luke is most likely here because of Hux's actions. He doesn't want to get Kylo's hopes up in case Luke hasn't come to bring Rey back.

There's a noise as somebody opens the first of the two bathroom doors, and Kylo's eyes dart in the direction of the sound. Hux doesn't get a chance to even begin to explain things before Kylo pushes him into the furthest toilet cubicle, then crams himself in after Hux a moment later and locks the door behind them. Kylo puts a finger to his mouth when Hux tries to open the door again, and whispers in the lowest voice he can manage, "What if it's Luke?"

Hux exhales tiresomely, but stays in the cubicle anyway. Ren mouths a 'thank you' to him and Hux nods and presses his back against the wall, listening as the man outside goes to the bathroom, zips his fly and leaves. They hear the sound of the main restroom door thudding shut again, but Ren doesn't unlock the cubicle yet. "That guy should have washed his hands," he says.

Hux crinkles his nose. "Agreed. Good to know we both believe in some level of hygiene." Then his mouth quirks up. "Would you believe it," he says. "We do have something in common."

"We have lots in common," Ren says, almost defensively.

Hux shakes his head. "We don't. But that doesn't mean we aren't friends."

Kylo has a strange look on his face. "We're friends?" he asks.

"We're something," Hux says. "We have to be." He doesn't mean to sound so tender. "I don't know any other teachers who take their students to milkshake bars," he says in a more joking tone to try and rectify his emotional slip up.

"We're something," Kylo echoes mildly.

Hux tugs at the hem of his jacket, wondering if perhaps he shouldn't have said any of that, if it was too much. He's thinking up some way to take it back when Kylo steps forward, even further into his space, and his thought process trails into nothing. Kylo's chest is almost touching Hux's, and Hux can feel the warmth radiating off his skin through his shirt at such a close proximity. Hux stares at Kylo in bewilderment, too preoccupied with how hot his chest feels to ask what Kylo is doing. And then Kylo's hands are on Hux's upper arms, and before Hux can take a minute to assess how he feels about what's happening, Kylo is kissing him. _Kylo Ren_ is kissing Hux, in a toilet cubicle at a milkshake bar on Kylo's birthday.

Kylo's mouth is warm and clumsy and young, and there's an intensity in the way he holds onto Hux's arms that makes Hux wonder if he's been thinking about this for a while. Hux does not return the kiss, nor does he hold onto Kylo—he pulls away and tries to step backwards, but his back hits the cubicle wall.

"Sorry," Kylo says, his eyes wide like he can't believe what he just did. He takes a step back too, and presses his back against the opposite wall. His hands fall to hang limply by his sides.

"It's—" Hux says hurriedly, embarrassed on Kylo's behalf. "It's all right." Kylo takes a cautious step towards him at that, but Hux interjects before he comes any closer. "Don't do it again, please."

Kylo is red in the face, "I won't. I'm really, really sorry." His voice has a strange edge to it, almost fearful. "I don't know what. I don't know."

"Kylo," Hux says. He puts a hand on Kylo's shoulder. "It's all right."

"Are we," Kylo says uncertainly, "Still friends? Still something?"

"Yes," Hux says, "Of course we are." He speaks in a reassuring tone, but he's beginning to strongly regret ever confirming that they had any kind of relationship in the first place, if it somehow prompted this. Are they really still friends, he asks himself? Of course he'll lie to reassure Kylo, but he's unsure if things can ever return to the way they were after something like this. All of a sudden everything feels catastrophically different.

Kylo unlocks the cubicle door and lets Hux step out before he follows with his shoulders high in humiliation. The silence in the bathroom is deafening.

"I'm not a homosexual," Hux hears Kylo mumble after a moment.

"I know," says Hux. It's the obvious thing to say; of course Kylo isn't a homosexual. Homosexuals are strange old men who lure young boys off the street. Kylo is—well, he isn't normal, but he is certainly not _that._

In the mirror ahead of him, Hux sees Kylo is red in the face. He wants to do something to calm him down, but he feels as though anything he might consider doing could be taken the wrong way. He stands idly and stares at the pink marble sink instead.

Kylo comes into his peripheral vision, walking up beside him and perching on the edge of the counter. His body is stiff. He stares at the main door of the restroom. "So. What do you think we should do now?"

Hux exhales. He had been thinking the same thing. The most appealing option is to pretend nothing happened, but that could have repercussions if things end up strange and awkward between them and they can't talk about it. Hux opens his mouth to say something along the lines of this when he processes _why_ Kylo is watching the door, and along with that remembers the original reason they came in here. What should they do about _Luke,_ Kylo had meant.

The sink drips. Kylo sticks his finger underneath the faucet and a dot of water falls onto it. He doesn't look up at Hux while he waits for him to respond.

"Well," Hux says, "You could just go out there. He's here to see you."

Kylo's snaps his head up to look at Hux. There's a mix of emotions on his face. "He's," Kylo says. "He's here to see me?"

Hux nods, ready to elaborate, but Kylo interrupts when he starts to speak. "How the hell did he know where I was?" Kylo demands with bulging eyes. "Did you tell him or something?" He looks wildly confused, not sure if he should be angry with Hux for betraying him or intimidated by Luke's apparent mind-reading powers.

"I just meant 'here' as in 'in town'," Hux says with a half-laugh. "It's just a coincidence we're in the same place."

"Well..." Kylo says, quieter, and his eyes fix on the faucet again, "What's he doing in town, then?"

"Do you remember when I went to talk to your parents?" Hux asked. "I mentioned to them that it would be good for you to have a friend your own age, and they said they would speak to your uncle about bringing your cousin back here."

Kylo parts his lips slightly. He looks thankful, but more conflicted than anything else. "I can't see him," he says. "I can't. He's still mad at me."

Hux bites the inside of his mouth. Kylo is going to have to face his uncle at some point, especially if he's moving back into town.

"Can't we just wait here until he leaves?" Kylo asks.

For a moment, Hux is quiet, considering. Kylo watches the faucet drip and waits for a response. His face is still tinged pink with lingering embarrassment, and his hand shakes slightly as he catches water droplets on his finger.

It would probably be kindest for Hux to humour him, to be his friend rather than force him to face up to things. Hux inhales. "Your uncle doesn't have a penchant for using the toilet often, does he?" he asks.

Kylo's mouth changes from an uncomfortable line to a small smile, and he looks up. "No," he chuckles.

Well, look at that, Hux thinks optimistically. Maybe things aren't irreparable. They're getting close to normal again already.

Hux's optimism rather fades when ten minutes has passed by and neither of them has managed to say anything else. They have, so far, successfully managed to avoid Luke, though. He hasn't come into the bathroom yet, but to be safe, Kylo has locked himself in the end cubicle again, and each time Hux hears the main door opening, he pretends to be a random restaurant patron washing his hands.

After half an hour of repeating this cycle, Kylo says tentatively through the cubicle door, "Luke doesn't know you. You could go out and check if he's gone."

"Good idea," Hux says, pretending he hadn't already thought of that twenty nine minutes ago and dismissed it in case Kylo didn't want him to go. "Shaggy hair, yes?"

"Yeah," Kylo says. "Greyish. And a beard."

"Give me a moment," Hux tells him. He dusts his clothes off and walks out of the restroom, then subtly glances around the diner. There don't appear to be any shaggy grey-haired men around. There is, however, a waitress with cherry coloured Cupid's bow lips—the one who served him earlier—walking straight towards him.

"I thought you and that young boy had pulled a dine and dash!" she exclaims. "Lord, you were in the bathroom a long time."

"Yes," Hux says. "We talked a little, I suppose time just got away from us. He's my nephew, I haven't seen him in a while."

The waitress gives him a smile, and leans in close to Hux. "My granddaughter came to my house yesterday, I couldn't let her go for hours." She tilts her head a little. "Where is he now?"

Hux glances behind him at the restroom door. "He's just drying his hands." Before the waitress can say anything else, he adds, "We'll probably be leaving now. I'll pay." He sifts through his blazer pocket to find his wallet, and hands the waitress a twenty dollar bill. "Keep the change."

"Aw, thank you, honey!" she says, and tucks the note into her change pocket. "You have a good day, now."

"You too," Hux says, and waits until the waitress has walked back to the counter before he slips into the restroom again to fetch Kylo. The door shuts behind him. It's starkly quiet in comparison to the main part of the diner. "Kylo?" he says.

"Yeah?" Kylo says from inside the cubicle.

"He's gone. No shaggy haired men out there at all." Hux watches the cubicle door. "I've already paid if you want to leave."

Hux hears Kylo exhale and slide open the lock. He looks significantly less red in the face than before when he steps out of the cubicle. "We should probably go," he says. He doesn't look up as he trudges over to Hux. "Sorry for pulling you in here."

"It's all right," Hux says. "But you know you've got to talk to him sometime."

Kylo twists his mouth. Hux pats his shoulder, and they start to walk out.

"Did you ever apologise to him for biting off his ear?" Hux asks just before he opens the second bathroom door.

"He left before I had a chance," Kylo says. "But I don't want to, anyway," he adds a moment later, more aggressively. "It's his fault for getting so mad about something I can't help."

They cross the diner, and Hux considers his words carefully, phrasing his answer in a way that won't arouse suspicion in anyone who overhears. "I'm sure he can't help being concerned for his daughter, either."

Kylo scowls. "I was worried for her too—but you don't understand, I was so careful, she never could have gotten hurt." He opens the door at the front of the diner, and Hux walks through with him. Kylo scuffs the road with his shoe. "He should have let me explain things to her and let her make her own choice."

Hux exhales. "How old was she, back then?"

"Fifteen. But she's mature," Kylo insists. "She would have been responsible. She would have been fine."

Pulling his car keys out of his pocket, Hux glances at Kylo.

"I would never go near her when I was—like that." Kylo looks truly earnest, but Hux still can't help but be reluctant to give him an absolute and say 'I know you would never hurt her, I know she would be safe'—because he _doesn't_ know. It isn't Kylo that does the hurting most of the time, just his presence. There would be no way to be sure if he was far away enough from her.

Instead of voicing this, Hux says, "Why is it that you can come near me when you're in that state?" There is no spite in his voice, just curiosity. He doesn't unlock the car door yet, just pauses and looks at Kylo. "Nothing terrible has happened to me yet and I've spent hours with you as a creature." Excluding that bite, the creature's aura doesn't seem to have affected Hux at all.

Kylo looks conflicted. He gives a strange sort of shrug. "I have," he says, "A theory. But I don't think. Well, maybe you would."

Hux narrows his eyes. "What?"

"I don't think it's very nice," Kylo says. "And I bet it's wrong anyway."

Hux stares a moment longer before he drops his gaze and unlocks the car. "I would like to know at some point," he says as he opens the driver's seat door, "But I'll let you off for now."

Kylo nods silently and walks around to the passenger seat of the car. Once Hux has put the key in the ignition, Kylo is settled down next to him and has shut the passenger door. He isn't sprawled out comfortably like he was on the journey to the diner, though. It looks like he's being very mindful of the space he's taking up. Hux wonders if he feels self conscious. "Would you like to go home?" Hux asks him after a pause.

"No," Kylo says to his knees. He twitches slightly.

"Where are we going, then?"

Kylo doesn't answer, but he looks up at Hux. Suddenly his face looks a little green, and he swallows. "The forest," he says, and balls his hands into fists.

"Kylo?" Hux says warily. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Kylo bites out, "But I'm going to be a giant dog in about five minutes, so can you start driving?"

Hux blinks, and starts the car. "Right," he says.

Giant dog. Five minutes. Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was my bday a couple of days ago, so this is kind of a late my-birthday present to u guys! im 17, hooray! now i can read nc-17 fics without innocently pretending i didn't see the rating


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> previously on the homoerotic kylux show: kylo and hux spot uncle luke at flo's diner. when hiding out in the bathroom, kylo smooches hux. weird tension ensues. then on the way home kylo proceeds to tell hux that he is about to turn into a giant dog. tune in right now for more.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning 4 some homophobia and use of the word queer

Hux parks on an empty road near the border of the forest, and Kylo scrambles out of the car before he has even turned the engine off. He stumbles towards the trees as if he's intoxicated, pulling off his jacket and shirt as he half-jogs into the forest, and Hux almost forgets to lock the car in his haste to follow. When he turns around after pulling the key out of the lock and slipping it in his blazer pocket, Ren has disappeared.

"Kylo?" Hux calls, walking through the grass and into the trees. He gathers Kylo's shirt and jacket into his arms and heads further into the woods, not sure whether to look for a monster or a teenage boy.

The sound of a sharp yell echoes from further in the thicket, and Hux follows the sound, tree limbs and twigs snagging on his tweed jacket as he moves through the densely planted trees. It doesn't take long to find the source of the noise. Kylo's pants, and presumably his underwear too, are in a heap at the edge of a small clearing, and the creature is standing several yards away, panting, its skin and fur still shifting from the transformation with faint iridescent colours like an oil spill. It stares at Hux with piercing dark eyes.

It looks more like a large cat, maybe a panther, than anything else right now. Quite unlike the giant dog Kylo suggested he was going to appear as. Its fur is less matted than usual once it settles, almost sleek in appearance, and its muzzle is less protruding. Despite looking more well-groomed, it's no less menacing than usual, but Hux pays no mind. He drops Kylo's jacket and shirt at the edge of the clearing with the rest of his clothes and steps towards the creature.

"That was very fast," Hux says to it. He could have sworn it took Kylo twice this long to transform, maybe thrice, when he first showed his transformation to Hux at school. He will have to ask Kylo how much the length of time the transformation takes varies. When he can talk again, of course.

Meanwhile, the monster Kylo stares up at Hux. Hux reaches out a hand, and the creature rears back slightly, examines the appendage, then cautiously presses its forehead into it just like it had done when it first took Hux to the forest, months ago.

Hux rubs its ears. "Just me," he says. He exhales, and looks through the trees into the distance. It's quiet and still. It is just them. Probably just them in the entire forest, other than the critters.

What a peaceful thought, Hux thinks. Nobody knows where either of the two of them are. Hux suddenly feels quite privileged to be the only person to see Kylo here, to know where he goes and what he does when he is absent from his home. He smiles to himself, a tiny quirk of the lips, and lowers himself to the forest floor to sit down beside the creature, one leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee. The ground is cold but he'll probably be here for some time. He rests his arm on his bent knee, and tilts his head at the creature. It does not seem as energetic as usual. He isn't complaining, but he wonders if he should be doing something, interacting with it or playing with it somehow.

There isn't much on Hux's mind but the kiss, and all he's going to achieve if he starts talking about that is making himself (and possibly Kylo if he's conscious) uncomfortable, so he picks up a stick from the ground, pulls his arm in then throws it a few yards ahead of him. The creature's neck cranes to watch the stick fly through the air, but it doesn't move. It blinks when the stick lands.

"Right," Hux says. He'll just sit, then, if he's not going to get anywhere trying to entertain the thing.

He touches the dry, leafy ground. It crinkles under his fingers. The sun peeks through the gaps in the foliage above his head, and he blinks in the afternoon light. He wonders if Kylo's parents are wondering where their son is. Ms Organa is probably devastated he isn't at home on his birthday. Hux ought to take him back there as soon as he transforms again.

But for now. He reaches up to scratch behind the creature's ear, then settles back on his hands, closes his eyes, and appreciates the chilly breeze and the smell of the trees and earth for a moment. He's never really been one to enjoy the outdoors a great amount, but something about the forest air and the deep silence feels incredibly tranquil. He opens his eyes perhaps a few minutes later, to check on the creature. It doesn't appear to have moved from its spot beside him, but somehow it now has a squirrel in its mouth.

Hux does not question it. He closes his eyes once more.

It's a while before the creature does anything of note again, maybe an hour, but when it finally does, Hux finds himself startled out of his skin. There's a choked off growling sound from beside him and he opens his eyes immediately, turning to look. The creature is standing, twitching, turned slightly away from Hux. "Kylo," Hux says warily. He wonders if the creature can sense some kind of predator somewhere else in the forest.

The creature twitches again and shudders, and its sleek fur begins swirling again. There's a strange sense of kinetic energy in the air, and Hux tenses in anticipation. The creature arches its back, and suddenly all of its limbs contort with a startling series of pops and cracks, like all the bones in its body are breaking at once. Then the knobs of its spine—Christ, its spine—snap inwards in sequence, and the creature's mangled legs buckle.

Hux cannot tear his eyes away. He is mesmerised and horrified. A pained noise tears from the creature's throat, and Hux wants to aid somehow, but instead stands frozen, too wary of interfering. Kylo is transforming; Hux doubts that it could be anything else. He is probably used to it, Hux reassures himself, but that doesn't change how genuinely frightening it is to witness.

The fur covering the creature's body starts to melt off, exposing rough dark bluish skin, which in turn begins to mottle to pink. Fallen tufts of fur drift towards the ground but fade to invisibility before they land. The creature's bones creak and warp, bending and twisting until their structure is more human, and it holds itself up on its hands and knees, straining with the weight of its body, until its bones stop crackling.

Hux flinches at the appearance of the creature's face when it comes into view. Anatomically, it's halfway to human, but somehow it looks more monstrous than ever. Kylo as a whole at this point is a rather disturbing combination of human and monster, still with dapples of purplish skin and patches of fur over his body, and strangely inwardly angled limbs. Most of his face has, at this point, returned to a light olive-pink colour and distinctively human shape—it's the small nuances that are frightening. Kylo's mouth is too wide. His nose is too flat. His teeth are too sharp. His eyes. They meet Hux's, unfathomable black opposite cool blue-grey, and in a second the pupils shift from snake-slits to unassuming circles.

Kylo's head hangs forward, his black-nailed fingers digging into the ground as he starts to cough raggedly, and Hux sinks down beside him. He doesn't come too close, or say anything. He waits for Kylo to stop coughing, assuming that it will be over then. Kylo does stop coughing, but then he vomits up a clump of red squirrel entrails, and starts trembling, and occasionally gagging. (Hux was wrong, evidently, to think that it would all be smooth sailing from then on.)

When the shaking does not stop, Hux decides to intervene. He puts a hand on Kylo's shoulder, and Kylo leans towards it, so he shifts onto his knees so he can hold Kylo's middle as well. His skin is hot, feverish almost, and he cannot seem to keep himself still. Hux wonders if he is in pain.

Kylo makes a noise, and the remaining fur covering his body dissolves away into nothing under Hux's hands, and his skin loses its purple and fades to a neutral flesh tone. And then—oh, he's naked. Hux is very careful about the placement of his hands, and keeps them around Ren's torso as he vomits up the last of what's in his stomach and scratches at his face like he can still feel a muzzle there.

"Where're my clothes?" Ren manages. His voice is odd, stringy, like his vocal chords have only just finished forming.

Hux searches about the trees and the tufts of leaves, trying to recall where he dropped Kylo's shirt and jacket, but he seems to be too disoriented to remember. "They're..." he says, trying to get the words out before he even knows what they are. "Over by that tree."

Ren grunts. "I can't see, what tree?"

Hux peels his hands off Kylo's sweaty middle and fetches his underwear and pants from by the tree. Underwear is rather a priority, he thinks. He can get the shirt and jacket later. He hands the clothes to Kylo and turns away as Kylo tries to salvage his modesty and get dressed.

Kylo doesn't tell Hux when he can look again, but he puts a hand on Hux's shoulder and Hux turns around automatically. Kylo is panting, probably exhausted, and he drops his hand from Hux's shoulder after a moment and sinks to the ground, legs wobbling slightly on the way there. He leans against the thick trunk of a tree, his legs stretched out in front of him, and rests his head back as he catches his breath. Hux gingerly passes him his shirt and jacket, and asks, "Is it always like that?"

"Yes," Kylo says, mopping the sweat from his face with his shirt. His voice is still raw. "It's pretty tiring."

The whole ordeal only lasted perhaps five or ten minutes, but it had felt infinitely longer to Hux, and he imagines that it feels even longer than that to Kylo if the transformations are half as painful as they look.

"What does it feel like?" Hux asks. He doesn't filter his words; he can only hope that they come across as simply curious rather than blithe or prying.

Kylo doesn't appear to be offended. He bites the inside of his mouth. "When I'm turning into the creature it's like growing into something else," he says thoughtfully. "And then when I'm turning back into myself, it's more like shedding a skin. Kinda... I don't know. Like I was just born."

A breeze comes through the trees, and Kylo shivers, and pulls on his t-shirt, leaning forward to smooth it over his sides. "It's cold, when I come back to myself," Kylo carries on. Hux bends to sit down near him, enough distance between them that Hux can show his interest without crowding Kylo.

Kylo looks over at him. "Everything's such a shock. It's like when you get out of bed in the morning and the air makes you shiver, cos you're used to being under a blanket."

Hux nods. "Is it freeing?" he asks. "Or does it make you want to go back to bed?"

Kylo laughs at Hux's joke. Hux is glad. "It's a little of both," Kylo says. "I walk it off."

"Good for you," Hux says.

Kylo pauses. "You're not going to write all that in your experiment book, are you?"

The tips of Hux's ears go pink. "Well, I have to," he says. "It's the most significant information I have."

"Remember that I don't need to agree to be a part of this experiment thing," Kylo says. It's half in jest, half a warning.

Hux inclines his head and looks Kylo in the eye. "Remember that the main purpose of the experiments is to help you manage—"

"Oh, my _condition,"_ Kylo finishes, straightening up so his back no longer rests against the tree behind him. His voice is stronger, returning to its normal pitch. "My condition of being a real, actual, goddamned monster."

"Kylo," Hux says loudly. "It's clear that this is difficult for you."

"Really?" Kylo mutters.

"Let me finish."

Reluctantly, Kylo slumps back against the tree trunk. "I know what you're going to say."

"Then won't you be so pleased when you find out you're right?"

Kylo bites on his bottom lip to keep from saying something snarky in response.

"You must know that being in control of your transformations is bound to help your case if you want your uncle to let you near Rey again," Hux says. "Especially if you have written proof of how hard you're working on managing it. I'm certain it would work a great deal better than whatever your current plan might be."

Resentfully and with a frown on his face, Kylo shrugs his shoulders. "I guess."

Hux nods, then raises his eyebrows and leans forward. "Nevertheless," he says. "I don't need to write it down if you don't want me to... But you must understand how terribly interesting it is to me."

One side of Kylo's mouth quirks up. "I'm your pet project."

"That is rather true," Hux says. "But I have to say, whether we get anywhere managing your condition or not, I've liked doing this with you. As highly bizarre as it's been. I enjoy your company."

Kylo purses his lips and looks at his knees. "Okay. I didn't think you were going to say that last part." He lifts his head slightly. "Thanks."

"It's my pleasure."

"I've kind of liked it too," Kylo says, looking at Hux. There's a smile in his eyes.

"Yes, I know," says Hux. "You've been doing an awful lot of smiling."

—

"Hux," Kylo says in the car on the way to his house. The journey has been mostly quiet so far. His voice is tentative and he's facing away from Hux, looking out the window at the houses they're driving past when he speaks. "You've gotta understand. I'm not a homosexual." It's a bit of a non-sequitur, but Hux can understand that it might be on his mind.

Hux nods, not taking his eyes off the road. "Yes, we've established that."

"I'm just." Kylo huffs and looks down to pick at some invisible piece of dust on his knee. "I'm just reestablishing it. I don't want you going and telling my parents, or the police—"

"The police," Hux says incredulously. "Kylo, I'm not going to call the police on you, it was just a mistake. You're a child and you're curious. It's understandable. It doesn't mean you're a queer."

Other than his relatives, Hux is probably the first person who has paid Kylo any mind in years. It's natural that Kylo might have strange feelings towards him, feelings that are easy to get mixed up about.

Kylo shifts so he's facing Hux, then opens his mouth, but pauses for a moment before he speaks. "What does make you a queer, then?"

Hux gives Kylo a quick sideways glance. "We don't need to discuss this any further," he says. He stops the car.

Bemused, Kylo looks out the window again. They're coming up on the church by his house; Hux slows and comes to a stop, but Kylo doesn't get out of the car. He keeps staring out the window. Hux gets the feeling that he's anxious about Luke being there when he gets home. He thinks of saying something to Kylo, some word of reassurance, but just before he opens his mouth, Kylo opens the car door and steps out onto the sidewalk. He shuts the door behind him. He does not say goodbye to Hux.


	18. Chapter 18

Kylo lingers in the classroom after Monday's English class. There's a vulnerability on his face that almost leads Hux to believe that he feels invasive just for sitting at his own desk. "Are you all right?" Hux asks him after the classroom has cleared.

It seems to take several moments for Kylo to notice that Hux is standing in front of him, warching him expectantly. "Yeah," he says to Hux.

"Well, how was it?"

Kylo twists his mouth. "Uncle had already come and gone when I got home. My parents wouldn't tell me what he said."

Hux perches on the desk next to Ren's, and hopes his suit won't wrinkle. "Did he go back home? Or could he still be in town? You might still have a chance to talk to him."

"They wouldn't tell me anything," Kylo says, furrowing his brow. "They just kept giving me these weird looks."

There's a bustle of noise as two students hurry past the classroom, and Hux presses his lips together and watches the door until they're out of sight. When they have disappeared, he turns back to Kylo and peers down at him, exhaling through his nose.

"Now you're giving me a weird look," Kylo mutters.

Hux tries to shift his expression to neutral. "I'm trying to work out what to do."

"There isn't some solution to this," Kylo scowls. "He's gone. He won't even talk to me."

Hux puts his palms on his knees. "Then why did he come all the way down here?"

There's a distressed look on Kylo's face. "Don't get my hopes up, Hux." He stares at Hux for a few seconds, then gets up out of his chair in a rush, almost startling Hux. "I'm late," he explains, still frowning. Then he crams his book into his satchel and marches out of the classroom.

—

A week or so goes by. Kylo refuses to even entertain the idea that he might be able to see Rey again, too convinced that Luke won't let him. Meanwhile, Hux doesn't want to let it go quite yet. It doesn't make sense that Luke would come all this way up to Oronato for nothing.

"Let me talk to your parents," he says to Kylo after school on Tuesday.

Of course, usefully, Kylo point blank refuses. He's too defensive of being let down to get his hopes up.

Hux decides to talk to them anyway. He'll wait until the weekend, since that seems to be when Kylo is most often away from home, hiding out at the park. He's sitting at his desk in the classroom after the school day is over, planning a speech about how beneficial it would for Kylo to be reunited with his friend, when he sees a flicker in the corner of his eye. He looks out the window, and almost falls off his chair. A large white creature stands there, staring at him. The same white creature he met months ago when Kylo's creature took him to the woods.

 _How_ could he have forgotten? He spent a whole night asleep next to her in the forest. Although, he considers, he was half delirious with fever for the next two days.

Hux stares. She is the spitting image of Kylo's monster form. Same unnatural stance, same eyes, same strange movements. She turns her head, looking straight at him, and he falters, hoping he won't scare her off. But she bolts, faster than Hux can even process, away into the trees.

She looked just like Kylo's creature, and the way they interacted that evening in the woods... The two of them must be connected somehow, whether it be by relation or alliance, or just mutual monster transformations. Kylo has to know her. Hux has to ask.

He rushes out of the school with his papers gathered up in his arms for cover, and catches Kylo a little way down the road. "I need to talk to you," he rushes out.

Kylo stops walking, and turns to Hux. "All right."

"In private," Hux says. He's still breathless from jogging down the street. A few students on their way home eye him, and he adds, "It's about your grade."

Back in his classroom, Hux closes the door, then turns. Kylo is settling himself on a desk. His stance says confident, but his eyes are nervous, like he's anticipating some kind of attack.

Hux tries to avoid being intimidating, but he can't help if he's this curious. There are so many questions bubbling up in his head—so many potential answers. His brain is dialled up to a hundred just thinking about the possibilities.

"The white creature," he says, eyes fixed on Kylo. "It's a person too, isn't it?"

Immediately, Kylo pales.

With absolute certainty, Hux says, "You know who it is."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kylo mumbles, not appearing to enjoy Hux's certainty.

"Yes, you _do,"_ Hux insists. "That white creature, the one that looks just like you. We saw her in the woods when you were—transformed. Just a few months ago."

There's a quiet scraping sound as Kylo scuffs his shoe on the floor. His mouth quivers, as if he is almost about to speak, but then he presses his lips together.

"Kylo," Hux says. "I'm only asking because I dislike being in the dark. I won't push you." He takes a small step towards Ren. "But I will keep your secret, if you tell me."

Without looking up, Kylo says, "I can't tell you. It's not fair." He pauses. "It's not my secret to tell."

A revelation. It _is_ another person. The cogs in Hux's mind start turning. "Suppose you didn't tell me. Suppose I worked it out for myself, who it is."

Kylo shrugs. "If you're so sure, you could ask them. But I still can't tell you."

"Even if I already know?"

There's a bit of a clever smile on Kylo's face. "If you already knew, you wouldn't have to ask me."

Hux scoffs. "Shush." He paces the classroom slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Say I just ask you questions _around_ the subject. Nothing directly pertaining to who it is."

"Pertaining," Kylo echoes.

"Not related to."

Kylo bites the inside of his mouth. "It's still cheating."

"What is it, a game?"

Now it's Kylo's turn to scoff. "It's still _unfair_. You can't tell other people's secrets."

Hux laughs. "I had no idea you could be so sensitive."

Kylo does not laugh. He frowns. "I wouldn't want anyone telling my secrets," he mutters.

Understandable. Hux wouldn't want anybody blabbing about his again either. Look at where that got him. He gives Kylo a meaningful look, and perches on the desk next to him. "I wouldn't."

"You have before."

Hux sucks in his cheeks. "In an effort to help you," he says, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Hardly worked."

Guilty, Hux looks down. He is still trying to wrap his head around the whole thing, being kind on purpose, and it doesn't help to be persecuted for it. "I was trying. Perhaps I shan't next time."

Kylo looks over at Hux, a look in his eye Hux can't decipher. "You will," he says.

Hux tilts his head. "I probably will," he agrees with a sigh.

There's a knocking on the door, and Hux's head shoots around. "Sit down," he hisses at Kylo, and Kylo slumps into the chair at the desk he had been perched on while Hux stands up. "Come in," he says loudly.

The door opens, and Phasma walks in holding two mugs of coffee very precariously in one hand. She barely looks up from the coffees as she shuts the door behind her, and when she turns around again and catches sight of Kylo, irritation flickers across her face. Clearly she is still disapproving of Hux's _'pet project'._

Her gaze lifts from Kylo and moves to Hux, and within a fraction of a second her face looks significantly lighter. He raises his eyebrows at her.

"I was packing up for the day, and I heard Mrs Berry say she saw you running through the halls like a lunatic," she says. "Thought I might find you lying on the floor again."

In Hux's peripheral vision, he sees Kylo's face twist in thorough confusion. "Lying on the floor?" he mutters.

Phasma ignores him. "Anyway, I brought you a coffee." She sets it down on Hux's desk, then swivels to face Kylo. "Sorry, nothing for you... student." Her mouth purses on the last word.

Kylo pulls a face at her and crosses his legs under the desk. "Shame," he says.

"Don't be insolent," Hux chides, sitting down at his desk and lifting up the coffee mug.

"I won't," Kylo says with a smirk.

Hux doesn't bother telling him off for being smart. He takes a sip of his coffee instead. It's good, perfect temperature and strong enough to satisfy his particular tastes. He gives Phasma a small smile as he sets the mug down on the table again. He has missed breaktimes with Phasma—perhaps he should kick Ren out of the classroom at breaktime at least a few days a week so he can spend some time with her again. She seems to put up with the other members of staff all right, but he's not sure she has any real friends other than him.

"So," Hux says, but then he sees Phasma staring at Ren, and stops. He had intended to ask how Phasma had been, but he supposes it is a little strange for two teachers to be chatting while a student is still sitting there. He dismisses Kylo, and Phasma watches the boy shrug and leave before she sits down.

"How have you been, then?" she asks Hux. "You seem pretty fine. Upright and everything."

Hux huffs out a laugh. "I'm good enough."

"You've been awfully chummy with Ren. I don't suppose your good streak has anything to do with that?"

"He's wearing me out less. I made a deal with him, he barely shouts out anymore, and he's been turning up to his other classes too. A model student."

Phasma lifts her head. "Oh? And what was your end of the deal?"

"I talked to his parents about something," Hux says. He did talk to Ren's parents a while ago, only it wasn't part of their deal. So it is only a half lie. Half lies do the least damage, from experience. "Anyway. You. What have you been doing without me?"

Folding her arms, Phasma smiles. "I suppose I made friends with Mrs Berry. We talk. The conversation's hardly intellectual, but it's entertaining enough." She cants her head to the side, and tucks her hair behind her ear. "She hates her husband. I can relate... they live by me and grandmother, and he's a mouldy old bastard."

"Well. That's better than nothing, isn't it?"

Phasma scoffs. "Who have I got to make fun of her with?"

Hux glances down. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise. Just spend more time with me."

Hux means it when he says that he will. Reluctantly, Phasma absolves him from being a terrible compatriot, and they quickly fall back into conversation as usual. They finish their coffees, and Phasma almost chokes on hers laughing at one point as she retells a story Mrs Berry told her of Mr Berry coming to church still blackout drunk from the night before. When Hux sees the clock and realises he barely has time to do his marking tonight, he hopes Phasma doesn't think he's running after Ren when he says goodbye hastily and leaves.

Forget furthering friendships. He ought to spend more of his breaktimes marking.

—

The next morning is dull, uneventful. It's a Wednesday, and Hux is fairly sure Phasma doesn't work on Wednesdays since he never seems to see her, so he doesn't bother waiting around for her at lunch time. He gets straight to marking and annotating, and gets a fair bit done too, until he finds himself gazing out the window, and then he can't seem to look down.

There's a girl standing on the sidelines of the schoolyard, on her own. Doe eyes, ponytail, freckles, pink poodle skirt. She looks just like. She can't be.

Hux slowly puts down his pen, and goes to find Kylo.

—

"Hi there," the girl says, a smile on her face. "I'm Rey." She does a little curtsey, her skirt bouncing slightly, then extends her hand to Hux.

Hux shakes her slim hand, still a little startled. Kylo had appeared at his classroom door the moment the school day was over with Rey in tow, and introduced her immediately.

"She says she's back!" Kylo says enthusiastically. "Uncle got her into school again and everything."

"That's brilliant," Hux says incredulously. "No strings attached?" He still can't quite believe that Luke would bring his daughter back here without making sure that Kylo will keep her safe, especially on seeing her in real life. She looks even younger than in her photo, short and not even wearing kitten heels like all the girls over fifteen do.

"Well," Rey says, looking over at Kylo, her head angled so Hux can see her little neck scarf, "Pa says he has a few words for you. He'll come over to yours soon."

"Let's hope he's saying sorry," Kylo says.

Hux tilts his head. "Maybe you ought to apologise as well."

Kylo looks practically scandalised. "It's his fault for getting so angry."

Playing ignorant, Hux shrugs. "Whatever you did, he must have been quite upset to pack up and leave."

With a frown on her face, Rey lifts her chin and rests her hands on her hips. "I think you both should apologise to each other."

Kylo purses his mouth. "I can do that. I guess."

"Well done," Hux says to him, nudging him on the arm. "In advance."

There's a small private smile on Rey's face. "I like you," she says. "You're what, Kylo's mentor? He's been running his mouth on you all day."

"His mentor, I suppose," Hux says. He looks to Kylo with a sly smile. "Have you now?"

Kylo's answer comes in the form of a scowl.

"Well," Hux continues, turning his attention to Rey, "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh really?" she says with a little laugh.

He feels Kylo's eyes on him and knows that if he turns he'll see Kylo giving him another look for embarrassing him.

"All I know is that Kylo's glad you're back. And so am I. It sounds like you're very good friends."

"The best," Rey smiles. Kylo grins and elbows her playfully.

Hux nods slowly, and echoes, "The best."

—

The next day, Kylo does not stay behind with Hux at lunch, nor after school. It's the same the next day, and every day that week. He sees Rey with Kylo in the schoolyard out his window, talking, sitting at that bench by the edge of the trees. Hux wonders with a queasy feeling in his stomach if he made the best choice campaigning to bring Rey back to town.

Of course it was the _right_ thing to do. The compassionate thing. But when has he ever cared about that?

He may have just lost his favourite person all in the name of kindness. And kindness _towards_ said person. It's sickening, the weak thing he's become. Selfless. If he's not looking out for himself, who will? He shakes his head at himself, a grimace on his face. It's evening, and he's sat at home alone, the radio on, playing some classical piece. Debussy, _Pagodes,_ a distant part of him thinks. The knob is stiff when he tries to fiddle with the volume. He listens to the piano, a sweet and lilting melody with faint oriental flavours that loops back around every few phrases. It stays sweet while his thoughts turn bitter.

The music steadies his breathing, takes the weight off his shoulders, and it doesn't take much time for him to start to feel sleepy. The gentle lull of the music is sedating, dreamy. Hux ought to turn the radio off and retire to bed.

Instead he falls asleep in his chair.

He wakes when the presenter's voice introducing the next tune jolts him back to awareness. Inconvenienced by how heavy his limbs feel, he blinks his eyes and fumbles with the buttons on the radio to switch it off. The house is quiet, and Hux listens to the silence for a minute. He misses having the creature materialise at these quiet moments. He wonders what it's doing instead (—and ignores the fact that if Kylo is in human form then he is almost definitely with Rey).

It might be wandering about the woods, exploring, hunting, perhaps. Hopefully on its own, far away from humans. That gives Hux a little selfish comfort, even if Kylo would be doing it for Rey's protection.

Hux walks upstairs to his empty bedroom. Staying away from people, he's good at that too. Outside of school he hasn't seen anyone in weeks, not even Phasma. She's dropped by his classroom at lunch a couple of times this week, and they've criticised Mrs Berry and just about every other staff member. But she's been busy lately—possibly it's with Mrs Berry, and she doesn't want to tell him. He isn't unhappy about it, it should probably be good for her to spend time with a normal friend instead of a bitter amoral old man.

He must be old to her. He has to be nearly ten years her senior, possibly more; she barely looks nineteen. He wonders if there's something wrong with him, if the only people he can connect with are a decade younger than him.

Well, he thinks, and almost laughs. Of course there's something wrong with him. He's a joyless little man, with no friends, a penchant for getting into sticky, questionably moral situations, and an infatuation with a weird, weird teenager who wears too many scarves and sometimes turns into an enormous dog.

If little Armitage had known this as a boy, he probably would have killed himself by now to save himself the trouble of his miserable future.

Ah, well, though. Can't change the past.


	19. Chapter 19

Kylo comes to see Hux, finally, one evening at his house. Not the creature, but Kylo, human. Like a social call.

But, to Hux's masked disappointment, it turns out he did not come to idly chat. He tells Hux that he finally saw Luke and spoke to him, and that apparently Luke made a faintly ominous promise that if anything were to happen to Rey, not only would it be on Kylo's conscience, but he would disclose Kylo's secret to his parents—along with the rest of the world.

Despite the ominousness, Kylo tells Hux he agreed to the deal. Hux is very wary of the agreement, but he supposes he doesn't really have a say in it, especially since his relationship with Kylo seems to be drifting out of importance lately in favour of with Kylo's friendship with Rey.

He's only a little bitter over it. He's mostly anxious that Kylo will make a wrong move and Luke will tell his secret. It's such a vast thing to rest on something Kylo knows he can't really control.

But it's not his business, Hux tells himself, and he shouldn't care. It's frankly ridiculous that he's so worked up over it. Perhaps he got used to seeing Kylo all the time and the change is simply a little startling for him. He'll come to accept it soon, and then he'll be able to focus on teaching and intimidating children and psychoanalysing people at lunch with Phasma again.

(He does have a history of refusing to accept the things he doesn't like, but maybe that this time will be different. He hopes it will.)

—

Two more weeks pass, and he isn't doing very well in the way of accepting things. He orders himself to get over it, since he's particularly good at giving orders, but apparently that skill doesn't transfer to when he's the one receiving them too. He disobeys himself and spends the afternoon wondering why Kylo's creature hasn't come to see him since Rey came back. Coming to Hux's house would be a perfect way to stay away from Rey while he's transformed. Maybe Kylo simply hasn't realised, and would greatly benefit from knowing—Hux takes it upon himself to suggest it to him after class tomorrow.

Kylo makes the encounter quick and uncomfortable, nodding and thanking Hux for the idea but not looking pleased or like he's going to take up on it at all. He leaves the classroom to get to his next lesson, and Hux sits back down in his chair. _Rey is probably in Kylo's next class,_ he thinks. He wants to laugh at himself. Jealous of a sixteen year old girl. That's who he is now, because of Kylo.

He ought to make an effort to reset himself and transform back into what he used to be. Cold, not weak. Proud, not fumbling.

The first step is clear to him: spend more time with Phasma. Now he's become _this,_ she is the prouder and the colder of the two of them. Hopefully she'll rub off on him. The next thing to do would probably be to purposely stay away from Kylo, rather than only because Kylo won't see him. It makes perfect sense, since he's working towards becoming that stoic pinnacle of strength he once was, and his greatest weakness seems to be Kylo. But the thing is, he doesn't want to. He really doesn't want to.

He can put it off. Delegate that task to future Hux, and prepare himself in the meantime. It's not like it's something difficult, staying away from someone so annoying and headstrong. He only needs to realise how useless his feelings toward Kylo are, and then everything will go back to the way it was, when he was in control of his emotions. It shouldn't take long.

—

 _In theory_ , it shouldn't take long. In practice, he's already changed his mind again by halfway through his first lesson the next day. He makes a brilliantly witty comment and expects nobody to understand or respond, and as predicted, nobody does—except Kylo, who's pressing his mouth shut to keep from smiling. Immediately he is endeared to Hux again. Hell.

He decides to try and at least half commit to what he'd planned to do. He'll start spending break with Phasma, he'll distance himself from Kylo as far as he's able—which ought to be easy, since Kylo is doing most of the work for him—and he'll try to change his thoughts. He'll notice them, he'll acknowledge them, then he'll change them. He should be able to have that control over himself, and if he doesn't, he'll just have to gain it somehow. He cannot go on like this.

Phasma is a great help. Although he doesn't tell her explicitly what he is trying to do, and only lets on that he's taking a break from his pet project, she picks up on the situation quickly, and immediately slips into the role of his teacher. Not the academic kind at all... his emotional teacher, working on helping him influence what he's feeling.

He notices, as he spends more breaktimes with her, all of her movements have become more accentuated, more of her thoughts are voiced aloud. She helps him more and more, with all the subtlety and nuance he wishes he still had. And he plays the part of the skilled learner perfectly: he appears detached once more, he speaks about Kylo less and less, he has no more outward breakdowns. But his thoughts haven't changed. He has lost the ability to let go. It all stays with him.

_Where is Kylo? How is he? Is he happy? What is he doing? What did he eat for breakfast? How is the creature, and what does it do without Hux?_

Hux supposes he will just have to work with what he has, and adjust to this life where he's always feeling something at any given time. He'll find control in making more rigid lesson plans. That's always fairly calming for him, being able to anticipate every single thing that's going to happen. And he seems to have slipped into a regular lunch schedule with Phasma. They eat their sandwiches and apples side by side on Mondays and Thursdays, and she drops by every short break, except for Wednesdays. It's a comforting routine (although really, he ought to be above needing comfort by now). And they chat. He likes their chats. She's more caring than is appropriate, considering that they're trying to brainwash the emotion out of him. Always asking him how he's doing. But he appreciates it, deep down.

Except perhaps a couple of instances in which she pushes farther than he would have liked. "So, how's it all going, now your pet project's out of the picture?" she asks him over breaktime coffee.

"It's good." He sips his coffee. "More time for marking."

There's a pause, strangely rife with tension. Hux is not sure why, until Phasma says, "You sure it's all good?" with a sort of patronising expression on her face that Hux doesn't like.

"If you're worried about me, I really am faring _perfectly_ well, thank you," he says defensively. It's a lie. He misses Kylo, and he hates it.

"You're doing well, hm? Well, you're acting like a right old misery-guts. So if it's not Ren, what's eating you?"

Hux fumbles. He had been convinced he had been acting fine. He manages another tepid reassurance that nothing is wrong, and hopes Phasma will accept it and move on, but instead, a little smile appears on her face. Not a cruel one, just triumphant for being right. "Of course it's him, stop trifling. I know this isn't working."

"What isn't working?" he asks her, taken aback. He hasn't been that transparent, has he?

"You, trying to get back to normal." She purses her lips. "I think this is your normal now, Hux. And you're goin' to have to deal with it."

A strange feeling takes Hux over, like his blood is running cold in his veins. "My normal...? What?"

"Him. The kid. You wanting be his friend and all that." Phasma doesn't look happy admitting it, but she does so anyway. "I give up. Spend your time with him, I'm not fussed."

"I don't want to be his friend!"

"Why else d'you spend your days mooning after him then?" Phasma gives him a light shove, and he's so flustered it nearly causes him to tip his coffee down himself.

He sets his mug on the desk and dusts himself off. "I don't moon," he says, with dignity. "I'm simply... caught up in compassion."

Phasma bursts out laughing. "And that's so awful, is it?"

 _"Yes."_ It should be clear to her, of all people.

"Well, that's just swell then, isn't it? You're going to sit with your feelings and sulk. That'll have fantastic results."

Hux stands up, intending on pacing the room to clear his head, but instead, finds himself just standing on the spot. He fixes his eyes on Phasma and blows a breath out his nose, attempting to comprehend the fact that she, who has been teaching him all the ways to purge himself of this feeling, seems to be telling him to act on it. "Why exactly do you sound like you want me to start talking to him again?" he asks.

She raises her neatly plucked eyebrows. "I'm sick as all hell of you never giving me your full goddamned attention. I'm not your best friend, he is. And I'm making my peace with that, Mr Hux."

Hux looks at his ground. "General," he mutters lightly.

"Ha! General, then. Quit mourning something you killed by yourself."

Mourning. He supposes that does come rather close to describing what he's doing. But it was Kylo who let their (admittedly mismatched and unorthodox) friendship die when he decided to choose Rey over Hux, and with good reason, too. It's probably much better for him to be spending time with a sweet girl like Rey instead of himself. Why, if Hux really cared about Kylo, he'd leave him alone and let him be—but that doesn't sound appealing to him at all.

Lord. Hux can't decide if he wants to be halfheartedly cold or halfheartedly compassionate.

"I didn't do anything myself," he tells Phasma. "He doesn't want to talk to me. And we should leave it there."

Phasma leans back in her seat, apparently waiting for him to change his mind. After enough time passes that she's begun to believe him, she utters, "You're serious?" and straightens up her posture.

"Are you serious about forcing me to declare my love for him?" He's looking away from Phasma now, but he knows she's chuckling under her breath.

"If it'll stop you acting like a bitter Betsy all the time," she says, smile probably still on her face, "Then sure."

"Well," Hux says, unsure exactly how strongly he believes what he's about to say: "I don't think I should." He turns to face Phasma again, as if to cement his statement, and stands as proudly as he can. "He has a friend, and so do I. I won't die without him. He isn't that incredible."

Phasma's eyebrows do something, and Hux isn't sure what it's meant to communicate. "I hope you believe yourself," she says, making her eyebrow-message evident.

Hux sure hopes so too.

—

It's different, after that, between Hux and Phasma. Phasma stops putting so much effort into setting her example as a formidable sociopath, and jokes more, and laughs more. Hux enjoys it more than he'd like to admit. No matter what she says, she is his best friend. Kylo is simply something else; something that escapes definition; something that he's trying to put out of his mind right now. And that isn't so hard, with his friendship with Phasma becoming so strong. Kylo doesn't leave the back of Hux's mind, but he's certainly not front and centre anymore, and Hux is pleased with that, at least.

"What're you hung up on, pussy willow?" Phasma seems to have appeared in front of his face. He hasn't realised he'd got so distracted. They'd been having lunch together, but it seems like he's walked out of his head for a bit. He flounders as he stares at her bemused face.

"Well? Why the long face?"

"I was..." he says vaguely, "Lost in thought."

Phasma gives a little laugh. "What sorta thought? The meaning of life? Or why Ren won't be your friend?"

"Oh, shush," Hux says. He's perfectly happy with the situation as it is, and she knows that. He's better off without a monster and an erratic teenager heavily integrated into his life. It's obvious. "I'm just a little bored. What have you been doing lately?"

Now Phasma looks like the one detaching from the conversation. "This and that, you know."

One unsatisfied expression from Hux later, Phasma embellishes her answer. "Berry picking, now it's almost winter. Helping out gran."

"Could I... perhaps drop by your house sometimes? I've not got a lot on my plate," Hux murmurs. It's his way of saying he's lonely, and wants to spend more time not-alone.

"I'm almost never home." She looks genuinely apologetic, yet she doesn't seem at all willing to stay home every now and then so he can come over. "Sorry, Armitage. I like to walk a lot."

"Where?" Hux asks, absolutely not haughtily.

Phasma waves her hands in a noncommittal gesture. "The park. The woods."

There are alarm bells ringing in Hux's head. He tells them to be quiet. "It's not safe in the woods, you know," he says mildly. He's anxious, but he's unsure on whom's behalf—hers or Kylo's.

"I can handle myself."

And despite her perfect hair and shiny shoes, Hux knows that if the situation were to arise, she could. Probably would leave Kylo with a fantastic shiner when he came back to himself, too. He yields, and nods.

"I'll come over to yours," Phasma says. "How's that?"

Hux is not sure what to say. He is truly looking forward to it, but it's just so startling for him to be making plans solely to spend quality time with someone. "Good," he says, with a tentative smile.

And it is good. He makes coffee for the two of them, and they talk in the living room like friends. Granted, most of their conversations consist of very rudely poking fun at the idiots they work with, but with each other, they're considerate.

The whole thing ends up being so spiffing that Phasma invites herself over again later that week. And thus begins Hux's new life: no Kylo, double Phasma, _real_ friendship, and not some emotionless alliance like he was originally aiming for with her. He rather quickly grows to enjoy it, save for the constant niggling feeling of missing something important (which he knows must be Kylo, or the creature, or both, but he's loath to admit).

"You know," Phasma comments one day in Hux's living room, in a brief interlude between conversation topics, "This is much better, isn't it?"

Only idly listening, Hux lowers his coffee mug. "Hm?"

"Friendship."

Hux almost squirms. He is still not entirely settled with the idea of friendship. "I suppose." He's about to sip his coffee again when a thought comes to him. "But I thought we both hated emotional people."

"Oh, I could go either way." Phasma scratches her nose. "Whichever's more beneficial to me. It just seemed the direction you were leaning towards."

"You're a true impartial, aren't you?"

Phasma's eyes crinkle approvingly. "That sounds nice," she says, her shoulders relaxed as she leans back in her chair, "But probably not true. I like you too much to be real neutral."

Hux chuckles. Although he has trouble accepting his sentimentality for others, it is quite nice to hear that others are fond of him. He finishes his coffee and sets it on the table, and is just about to say something else when he notices how tense Phasma looks all of a sudden. His brow twitches. "Are you all right?"

She shakes a little, looking nauseous, and puts her mug down too. "I don't think I'm very well."

"My god, that came on quickly."

"I'm going to be sick," Phasma mutters, getting out of her seat all in a rush and bolting out of the living room, then out the front door.

 _What on earth?_ Hux considers going after her, but when he looks out the window, she has already made it down to the very end of his private lane. Bewildered, he sits in his chair, the strange event settling in his mind. His coffee didn't make her ill, did it? He doesn't seem to have been affected.

A thought occurs to him. He begins to fancy that perhaps she's pregnant. That would explain why she never accepts a drink from him anymore. At first he begins to ponder on how potentially entertaining it could be to watch Phasma navigate the unknown waters of parenthood, but soon, dread begins to set in at the fact that with a child, Phasma would be busier than ever, with no time for him at all. And now that Kylo is always disappearing with Rey, he'd be completely alone.

As much as Hux is ashamed of having friends, he thinks it would almost definitely feel worse to be alone now. He hopes she isn't pregnant. If he's lucky, maybe he'll just have poisoned her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS. this fic officially now has fanart. one piece is by my incredibly talented girlfriend, and the other is by me lol.  
> —hux and the creature (chapter 11):  
> https://ratsnoot.tumblr.com/post/164365517817  
> —the way I picture rey's style (chapter 18):  
> https://huxamidala.tumblr.com/post/164491581911


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEEE NEW CHAPTER. sorry for the wait, it was originally gonna be way longer, but once it got to 6000 words I thought screw this, I'll split it in two lmao

Class is boring. Kylo is distracted, and won't even look at Hux unless he speaks directly to him. Not only this, but it's been weeks since the two of them have had a proper conversation. Hux misses him, and he knows he chose to let Kylo go, but he didn't quite expect the loss of their relationship to be so sudden and complete. He asks Kylo to stay behind after class to talk about his work, and something flashes across Kylo's face briefly, before he nods and starts loading his books into his bag.

"Yeah?" Kylo says to Hux once he's walked up to the front of the classroom.

Hux sits down in his chair. He looks at Kylo expectantly. "How are you?"

Kylo frowns minutely. "I'm fine."

"And how are things with Rey?"

A small smile makes its way onto Kylo's face. "Good. It's really good. 'Cept she's always out in town on the weekend with these guys." He rolls his eyes, and perches on the edge of one of the desks. "Her boyfriend Finn has this best friend, Poe, and they all hang out together. Poe's a greaser, you know. He has a bike."

"Hmm." Hux is not sure what else he's supposed to say. He likes that Kylo's speaking to him, at least.

"I'm just rambling. It's good. I'll stick with that." Kylo shrugs half heartedly. "I'm happy."

There's a warmth in Hux's chest, and an ache too. "I'm glad," he says, and gives a smile.

Kylo ducks his head and looks at the floor. He looks uncomfortable. Hux regrets his words, but he's not entirely sure why. "Anyway," he says to Kylo. "You ought to be off to your next lesson."

Kylo mumbles his agreement, and slinks off out the door. Hux feels pointedly lonely. He hopes he'll see Phasma today, if she's recovered from the flu episode he may or may not have caused with his awful coffee. He sits up in his chair and skims over the papers on his desk. Nothing interesting, but he may as well get some marking done. He always seems to be behind.

"Hello," an unfamiliar voice says when Hux is two pages deep into a thirty page pile of sloppy students' notes. He turns towards the doorway to the source of the voice—a woman, tall, with dark curly hair tied back from her face. "I hope I'm not interrupting," she says.

Hux inhales. "It depends."

An intrigued smile forms on the woman's lips. "Well, let me prove myself worthy then. Rae Sloane. I'm the new math teacher."

That earns a fairly impressed look from Hux. "I'm surprised they hired a—"

"Woman," Sloane finishes, with a forward tilt of her head. "I do hope you were about to say woman."

Hux leans back. "I was. We've never had a female maths teacher, I've seen the records."

"I doubt you've ever had an African one, either."

"Probably true," Hux yields. "So you're good?"

Sloane squares her shoulders, and with her confident stance, her yellow two-piece suit suddenly seems to fit her even better. "I'm the best." A moment later, her composed expression falls a little, and she shakes her head and chuckles. "They'd never hire me otherwise."

Hux gives an agreeing nod: she's quite right. He glances her up and down. If it were any other teacher at his door, he would have asked them to leave by now, but there's something about her that stops Hux from brushing her off.

"You're Hux, aren't you?" she says.

Bemused, Hux frowns. "Who told you?"

He doesn't receive an answer to his question. Instead, Sloane asks, "How did you get here? I heard you used to be in the military."

"I was General," he says, and straightens up his posture.

"What happened?"

Feeling less proud, Hux glances at the carpet. "I didn't quite leave of my own volition. They didn't want me on British soil anymore."

"Harsh. What did you do?"

Hux's lips form a tight line. "Things."

Sloane nods slowly. "That's specific." Then a half-smile forms on her face. "I know how you feel, though. My mother moved us here when I was a child. She's old now, and I'm stuck."

"Well, we have that in common," Hux says. (Although it isn't quite true: the orders to stay within the city limits were lifted months ago. He's stuck for a different reason now.) "So you're making your rounds, introducing yourself. That's unusual. Most people just make a cake when they leave."

Sloane is smiling again, a different sort of amusement behind this one. "I don't like cake."

Hux waves his hand. "What do you like?" He's surprised that he's putting in the effort to maintain this conversation.

"Math." Sloane pauses contemplatively. "A good book; baking."

Now Hux is the one with amusement on his face. "What do you bake if you don't like cakes?"

"Things for other people," she chuckles. "Everyone at my ma's retirement home loves my treats."

"A baking savant. And yet you're here, teaching children how to add."

Sloane shakes her head. "I like it. There's something special about teaching."

"Is there?" Hux has never noticed.

"Well, I think there is. I hope there is."

Hux inhales. "Maybe there is and I'm just doing it wrong." He shuts his mouth. He did not mean for that to come out sounding as self deprecating as it did. When he meets Sloane's eyes again, she's giving him a concerned sort of look. "I'm sure you'll do well," he says. "If you'll excuse me, I have some marking to do."

Sloane nods, and turns to leave, after giving him a last tentative once-over. Hux listens to the door close before he moves. He picks up his pen, straightens his pile of notes, and skim reads the name at the top of the sheet. _Kylo Ren (Ben Solo),_ the scraggly letters read. He scoffs quietly.

He tucks Kylo's notes into the back of the pile. Not now.

—

"Knock knock."

Hux's eyes snap open. "Yes," he garbles.

He was not asleep at his desk. He was just resting his eyes.

The classroom door swings open, and Sloane stands there, eyebrows raised. Hux smooths down his hair and the front of his shirt, and Sloane lowers her eyebrows politely.

"Yes?" Hux repeats, impatiently.

Sloane appears unfazed. "You feel like dinner? I'm told that bar down the lane has crazy good vittles."

Her interest in Hux seems to know no limits. "Flattering," he says, "But I'll have to decline. I'm not interested."

There's a smile growing on Sloane's face, as if she knows something he doesn't. "Good for you. I'm sure we'll manage to have a good time without you."

Caught out, Hux echoes, "We?"

Somebody out of sight around the corner of the door chuckles. "Yes, we, you ninnyhammer," Phasma says.

Hux is left with hot cheeks and the slithering feeling of self consciousness creeping in at the back of his mind. Sloane and Phasma turn and disappear down the corridor, and Hux's lip curls in annoyance. He looks down at his stack of papers, in disarray from being leant on for an hour.

Kylo's notes are peeking out at the top of the pile. Mocking him.

He slumps back in his chair, feeling inundated with stupid problems and worries and emotions, and sighs. He misses when he was a sociopath.

—

Hux's house is cold and empty. The radio is on in an attempt to fill the silence, and he's sat on the couch looking out the window. It's dusky outside, the last warm afternoon light disappearing over the horizon. The bushes are rustling in the breeze. And then there's a different kind of movement, unnatural and too prominent to be caused by the wind, and Hux's attention becomes caught unwaveringly between two shrubs, which are trembling like they are about to spit out something terrifying. And they do. And it's Kylo.

Not the human, the creature. Fur all scuffed up from the leaves and the twigs, it emerges from the foliage, and skulks down the road with its eyes on the ground. Hux wants to call out, catch its attention, but that seems terribly impolite, even if he whose attention he's striving to catch is a great hulking monster. So he just watches, and waits for its eyes to reach him.

It's disappointing when they do. The creature takes a look at him through the window, and halts its march for a moment. Time stands still. It watches him in consideration—then looks at the ground, and turns and slips into the bushes once more.

Hux keeps watching the spot where it disappeared for at least ten minutes. It does not come back.

—

"Your head's in the sky again," Phasma says.

"What?" Hux tears his eyes away from the classroom window.

Phasma eyes him in displeasure. "This doesn't feel much like a lunch date. Seems like you're finding a better friend in the window than me today."

Feeling slightly chastised, Hux apologises. "Sorry," he says to her—but he knows that he wouldn't be if he'd managed to see the creature out on the grounds. "So. How did your dinner go?"

Her frown dissipates, and after it follows a smile that's just on the edge of boastful. "It was good. You would have liked it."

"I might not have."

Phasma just keeps smiling at him, amused as ever. "You know," she says. "We're going out again this weekend."

Hux's interest is slightly piqued. Not enough that he would admit to it aloud, but enough to keep his eyes off the window for a minute or so.

"Got a lot of work to do? You could come with us."

Dubiously, Hux tilts his head. "I could."

"You'll be good company, you always are." Phasma nudges him with her elbow: "Even when your head's half in the clouds."

"My head is _not_ in the clouds," Hux maintains, but it's only moments before he's abandoning his commitment to their conversation to think about Kylo again. There's movement out the window, and since Kylo is disappearing almost every lesson now, Hux has defaulted to hypervigilance in the hope of glimpsing the creature even for seconds. He stares at the trees at the edge of the grounds, scanning for black fur, for angled legs, for sharp eyes.

"Hey." Phasma claps twice, like he's a distracted student about to be reprimanded for not paying attention. "God, I don't think you even see yourself sometimes."

Hux would be embarrassed, if most of his brain wasn't still stuck on wondering where Kylo might be right now.

"Are you sure you're all right with this?" Phasma asks. "Leaving him alone?" She makes no clarification to who she's referring to, but they both know.

"I don't know," Hux mutters. "But it's what I'm doing."

Phasma finishes her orange, and cants her head to the side. "So you'll come with us?"

The choice is obvious. He ought to go, and have a life with people like himself; teachers, intellectuals. But still he has to take a few moments before he can speak. He stares at the sandwich in his hands, slightly wilted from being held for so long and not eaten. "Fine."

—

The dinner is wonderful.

The food is perfectly cooked, and despite its low price, of substantial quality; the conversation is stimulating and witty; the company is good. Sloane is a fantastic woman. As sharp as Phasma, as polished and starched as Hux. (And as stubborn as Kylo, too.) And she seems to hold equal admiration for Hux, not complimenting him sparingly, but giving him enthusiastic credit for his smartest remarks when it is due. The evening follows its predicted schedule without straying for even a second. Yet still, at the end of the night, Hux finds himself slumping unhappily into his armchair, and pouring himself a scotch to nurse while he scowls at the window.

He's no happier on Saturday, nor Sunday—but at least on Monday at school he now has Sloane to stand beside at breaktime duty. The teens laugh and shout and shove each other, and the two of them linger by the doors of the school building and watch disinterestedly, clutching a mug of coffee each. Hux tries not to seem preoccupied with finding Kylo in the jolting crowd, but apparently, he doesn't do a successful enough job of it.

"Looking for someone?" Sloane asks him, several minutes into break.

Hux fumbles to think of the least suspicious thing he could say. "Yes," he confirms with a falsely disapproving expression. "Kylo Ren has been skipping my lessons."

Sloane hums contemplatively. "He's missed both of his first two lessons with me."

Hux tries to hide his interest at her words. "Ought to give him a detention when I see him again."

He receives another hum in response, and silence after that. Assuming that the conversation is finished, he returns to playground-watching, and slowly sipping his coffee.

But when he looks over at Sloane again, almost a full minute later, she is giving him a very deliberate look, one that he expects he is supposed to derive some very particular meaning from. "I'll let you know when he turns up," she tells him.

Hux's eyes go straight to the ground. "Yes."

Sloane sips her coffee mildly.


	21. Chapter 21

Five slow, agonising weeks pass by, in which Hux only glimpses Kylo two or three times in the schoolyard. Each time, Rey is with him. Hux cannot help but feel envious. Kylo has not turned up to a single lesson of his, nor one of Sloane's, nor even a single one of all of the teachers that he questioned idly in the teachers' lounge, in over a month. And while Phasma refuses to comment on Kylo's presence in the class she assists, Hux is willing to bet that if he is indeed in her class, she won't have seen him.

Hux is beginning to consider talking to Rey. She has steady attendance, Sloane can corroborate, and without a shadow of doubt, Hux knows that she will have at least some idea of what's wrong with Kylo—because something _must_ be wrong if Kylo is skipping every single class, even Hux's own, which he usually makes an effort to show up for unless he has... a prior engagement. It's one thing to slack off on homework in favour of having fun with a good friend, but it's another to have suddenly quit school without any evident cause.

Hux would like to think that it is a reasonable, well thought out thing to do to, but it is probably impulse when he catches sight of Rey in the corridor outside his classroom, satchel slung over her shoulder as she walks to the yard, and calls her over.

"Skywalker?" he says, enough authority in his tone to capture her attention, enough mildness to let her know that she isn't in any kind of trouble.

She turns her head, looking for the source of the voice, and something like guilt comes across her face when she sees that Hux is the one that called her over. She slows her steps, and meanders closer to Hux's classroom door.

Hux gets up from his chair. "May I have a word?"

Rey gives him a nod, and a quick smile, although she doesn't look very happy. She walks towards the door, and Hux walks to meet her at a slower pace, and they both come to a halt a few yards inside of Hux's classroom.

The hallways have cleared up a little, with only the occasional student passing by Hux's door, but still Hux gives the door a push to give them some cover. When he speaks, his voice is low. "I don't mean to be presumptuous," he says to Rey, "But is Kylo all right?"

It takes Rey much longer than he is expecting to answer. "Not really," she says eventually, in all earnest.

Hux's skin prickles with cold. "Well, what's the matter?" Is it appropriate to ask that, he wonders? It should be, surely. He's a teacher inquiring after a missing student.

Again, Rey takes her time with her answer. "It's rather hard to put into words."

Hux gestures vaguely with one hand. "Is he sick?" _It is something to do with his transformations?_

"No, he's..." Rey fumbles for the words. "He's healthy, I guess."

Nodding half heartedly, Hux wonders what could be wrong with Kylo if he isn't sick. Is he so bored with school that he just doesn't care to turn up anymore? Is he angry at it? At Hux? "I don't suppose it's my fault in any way?" Hux asks, taking a stab in the dark. He can't imagine what he might have done, but still somehow he feels like he should be responsible.

Rey looks away. Her eyes flit around, looking at anything in the room but him. "Well, I don't want to be rude. But yes."

"Oh?" Hux tries to make his voice sound less strangled. "Any reason in particular?"

There seems to be some kind of battle between good and evil taking place inside Rey's mind. She crosses her arms, and gnaws on her lip. When she looks up at Hux, moments later, there is something considering in her eyes. "I'm not supposed to tell you."

Hux's eyes narrow. He can't imagine why Kylo would want to keep something from him, especially something that's bothering him. "Why?" he asks, trying not to sound incredulous.

There's an apologetic look in Rey's eyes, but the line of her mouth is resolute and firm. Hux begins to get the feeling that he won't be able to extract an answer from her, no matter what power moves he tries to pull. She has promised Kylo to keep Hux in the dark about what's happening—and that stings more than it should. He perches on the nearest desk, and bites the inside of his cheek.

He's watching the wall when he hears Rey's shoes shuffling along the floor towards the door, and he expects her to just walk straight out. But instead, she pushes the door shut until it clicks, and stays inside. Defeat is on her face when she walks up to Hux again, and Hux wonders why. He didn't _do_ anything.

Rey waits until she has his undivided attention, before she exhales, and tilts her head. She speaks, her voice quiet but steady: "Kylo is obsessed with you."

Hux falters. There's a very odd feeling in his chest, as if he has lost something very important and found it at the same time. He tries to respond, but there are no words that exist that can express his confusion. "Excuse me?" he manages, some moments later.

"He's thinking about you way too much, and he knows how odd it is. And I think he's trying to stop it by ignoring you, but it doesn't seem to be going very well."

The more Rey says, the less Hux believes her. "That's not true," he says, his tone so incredulous that he's almost laughing. Even if it were true, Rey is clearly sympathetic to Kylo—so why would she tell Hux this alleged secret? What does she expect him to do with this information?

Rey is displaying a strange look, one brimming with too many mixed thoughts and emotions for Hux to decipher. "It is, trust me," she says.

"Well." Hux's voice is soft. He looks down. "Why?"

Rey shrugs, lips pressed together tightly again, as if she's decided that she's already divulged too much. "Maybe you should ask him."

At this point, it's all too much. Hux throws his hands about in a wild, despairing gesture. "How am I supposed to ask him when he's so dedicated to avoiding me?"

Rey purses her lips and cants her head in some kind of minute shrug. "Find a way."

Then she walks to the doorway again, and leaves this time, shutting the door behind her, and it's like she was never there. Except for the feeling in Hux's stomach like he decided to swallow several fireplace coals.

This changes everything, this throws all his priorities and plans out of place, and the worst part is that he doesn't even understand why. Why does this matter? Why does he feel like his throat is closing up? He ought to be trying to be effective, considering what he could do to reduce the urgent feeling in his chest right now instead of panicking and overthinking. But alas, he's already caught up in the latter two. His mind keeps travelling back to his army days, to when he last had this feeling—and that's no help at all.

There had been a man: Jacob. Not somebody Hux could ever forget, but certainly somebody whose all existence he could deny. Two years older than Hux, and higher up in the ranks, but despite having every opportunity he never treated Hux as if he was inferior. He was probably the polar opposite of Hux, personified, all warm hands, blonde hair, honesty and chivalry. But still, Hux was drawn to him (or perhaps that was _why_ he was drawn to him... because he was sick of himself, and the things he had done, and the things he kept doing).

But it had been so easy for him to push down any feelings for Jacob. All he had to do was remind himself that feelings would only impede his progress towards attaining the title of General, _General,_ for god's sakes, and suddenly, it was second nature to ignore Jacob's glances and turn down his help and friendship.

Hux fears how difficult it would be to do that to Kylo in comparison—without Kylo's wholehearted dedication to completely avoiding him, god knows he wouldn't have managed to get anywhere with his plan to cut down their interactions at all. He doesn't want to have to acknowledge his feelings this time. And he certainly doesn't want to have to acknowledge Kylo's. He can't imagine a more painful idea.

He still has all of these unpleasant thoughts swirling around his mind when Phasma drops in at lunchtime. Clearly, she hasn't an inkling of the world of stress he's been in. She unpacks her lunch as usual, after perching on a table, while Hux stays unmoving at his desk. "I talked to Rey about Kylo," he says.

"Oh? What'd she say?" Phasma lifts her chin in mild interest, and takes a bite of her apple.

Hux envies her collectedness, her relaxed energy. He feels like he's been trying to catch his breath all day, and failing. "He's obsessed with me," he states, and hell if he even half believes it, even now.

Phasma's eyebrows do the usual dance they do after any kind of bizarre revelation from Hux. "Obsessed?"

An exhale. He has to work up the energy, nay, courage, to say it again. "Obsessed."

Phasma nods her head. "I can see that."

Disbelief strikes Hux. He almost feels betrayed.

Phasma takes nothing back like Hux was faintly hoping she would, and starts on her apple again. But she's only had two or three more bites before she lowers the apple from her mouth and puts it back in her lunch tin, face tight. She balls her hands into fists, an unpleasant frown on her face.

There's barely time for Hux to inquire as to whether she's all right before she slams the lid on her lunch tin and bustles out the door, calling tersely, "I have to go," behind her, and then disappearing completely.

Well. It can't have been his coffee this time, Hux thinks.

—

Hux's next class comes in not long after Phasma runs out. He's not sure quite what to do with them, with all that's on his mind, but he manages—that is, until the white creature bounds through the trees outside the window, and he recalls that it is a person as well as Kylo's creature, and melts into his chair, and gives up on trying to find answers in regard to anything.

(This is one too many ridiculous occurrences to fit into the mind of a man so very close to literally disintegrating from frustration.)

The day goes on, and Hux stews in his shock and confusion, barely getting through the material he needs to cover in his classes. For once, however, having such slacking students acts as a wonderful blessing, as none of them seem to notice at all. Maria Wood lingers for a moment to glance at him before leaving the class, but other than her, not one student gives any indication of noticing that Hux only managed to speak a few sentences over the span of a two hour lesson.

When the end of his working day comes, to Hux's mild surprise, he is beginning to feel a little less horrible. He loads his things into his briefcase, fastens the clasp, and as it clicks, suddenly, something clicks in his head. There is a sinking feeling in his stomach.

The span of time between when Phasma left his classroom and when the white creature stepped foot on the grounds is too coincidental.

He does not like this _one bit._

Too many pieces are beginning to fit together all too perfectly. All of Phasma and Kylo's secret glances, their tired stares, like they'd been putting up with each other long before Hux had to put up with the two of them. The white creature's quiet energy matching Phasma's disposition just as the black creature's curiosity and volatility match Kylo's.

Hux looks at the clock: 5:15pm, precisely the time Phasma leaves every day she works. He picks up his briefcase and marches out of the classroom towards the front exit, not even half trying to school the miserable frown on his face. This is not something he wants to do now, but he sure as hell isn't putting it off until tomorrow.

He catches her halfway down the school drive, taps her shoulder, and begins marching back up to the car park. "Come," he says, not willing to elaborate.

Phasma follows him to his car, a little bemused, but otherwise unaffected.

"Get in," Hux says once he has unlocked the driver's seat door, voice low and steady. He won't yell. Not yet, at least.

Phasma pulls a face. "Where're we going?"

"Just get in," he repeats, blowing air out his nose, and slumps into his own seat.

"Open the door for a girl next time," Phasma scoffs, but gets into the passenger seat of the car all the same.

Hux has to stare at the dashboard for a very long time for his shock and anger to subside enough to speak calmly. "It's you," he states, after the fire in his chest has begun to dwindle a little.

Phasma frowns at him in bemusement. "Yes, it's me. Are you all right?"

"No," he says, leaning back in his chair, and fixing his eyes on a speck on the windshield. "No, I am absolutely not all right."

Waiting for elaboration, Phasma settles in her own chair.

"You lied to me," Hux says.

Phasma shakes her head slowly. "I don't think I've lied to you."

Hux looks over at her. "You don't recall? You made me believe that I was hallucinating. That I was a lunatic."

"How did I—" Phasma begins, but Hux interrupts her.

"Don't you dare do it again," he says, voice tinged hard with annoyance. "I know what you are, girl."

Phasma's confusion flickers into something else. Shock, fear. (And _guilt,_ Hux hopes.) A few moments pass by where no one speaks. And then Phasma crosses her legs primly, and says, "I couldn't very well have told you the truth, could I?" Her voice is tremulous. "I was scared. I'm still scared."

"Oh, Christ," Hux scoffs. "I don't care that you're a monster, creature, whatever you want to call yourself. I care that you lied to me."

Phasma's eyes widen, then narrow. "Why aren't you... having a reaction? Why don't you care?" She almost seems annoyed that he hasn't exploded with fear and surprise.

"It's fundamentally—you shouldn't _lie_ to me. I don't lie to you."

"I'm a horrible, evil monster, and I kill things," she says. The words sound foul in her mouth, as if she thinks they will cement the last bricks to the mausoleum of their friendship.

"Ask my commanding officers in England, and they'd say I'm a horrible, evil, murderous monster too. It's perspective. It doesn't matter." Hux feels like for the first time in a long while he has the upper hand in the situation. He has a small grasp on things. And it feels good enough, for now.

"So that's all?" Phasma asks him. "We're not talking about this?"

Hux shakes his head, and breathes out. "I've no need."

Phasma pauses, before remarking, "You know, I thought you'd be at least a little proud I managed to pull the wool over your eyes for so long."

Some warmth must come back to Hux's face at that. "I am, a little."

And then suddenly, the tables turn again, and Phasma almost knocks him off his feet with how quick she is. "Hold on," she says. She fixes her stare on him, the one that he would probably have nightmares about if he were a weaker man. "You know about him, don't you?"

They're both instantly aware of to whom she is referring. And they both know now that Hux has known about Kylo for a long time.

He doesn't say anything, not yet. He tries to discern what response he should probably have to that statement. And of course, he doesn't choose the appropriate one. He chooses to defend Kylo to Phasma. "You're not allowed to be cross with him," he chides. "He never said a word about you."

"Revealing one of us to one person could so easily turn into revealing both of us to everyone," Phasma says. "It was clumsy."

"He was lonely," Hux says, voice low. "You never helped him."

"What exactly could I have done?"

"Been his friend?"

"He doesn't like me."

"You two seemed quite amicable as creatures." Hux smiles a small smile. "When I first saw you, I thought you were his mother."

Phasma doesn't seem to like this observation. "What, just because I'm a few years older than him I have to be his mother? You know, he does already have one of those."

Unhappy, Hux feels himself start to tense up. "Yes, and he has to live in the woods for days to avoid hurting her."

Phasma chuckles mirthlessly. "Boy, I know that."

Hux softens, remembering Phasma's grandmother. "Annette... Why do you still live with her?"

"Annette knows," Phasma says, something almost proud in her tone. "She's made her peace with it. And she sleeps with a revolver by her bed."

Not sure quite how to react to that, Hux stays quiet, waiting for Phasma to elaborate if she so chooses.

Phasma shrugs, as if to fill the silence. "She'll shoot me if she needs to. Not like I wouldn't deserve it."

And then Hux has a thought. It starts out small and quiet, but grows and grows, until he has no choice but to voice it. "Phasma. Those killings," he begins. Immediately Phasma knows what he is talking about. The murders several years ago that still haunt the town in secret. "Were you..."

Phasma looks him straight in the eye. "Yes, it was us," she mutters, a weariness in her voice that suggests she's thought over this topic a lot. "Most of it."

 _"Most of it?"_ Hux repeats flatly. Something between fear and interest flares up inside him. He watches Phasma's face, but her expression does not give away what he is looking for. "How many are unaccounted for?"

"Five." Then she kicks him lightly with the toe of one of her red patent pumps, and when she speaks again, her tone is almost irate. "Is this really what you're interested in? Not that I've killed people?"

He waves his hand dismissively. "We've all killed people. Besides, I hardly imagine any of yours were even direct."

A little huff of breath leaves Phasma's mouth. "You don't expect much of me. Four of them were, thank you very much."

Hux pauses. Leans forward, eyes incredulous, lips parted. "Four."

"That _telekinesis_ rigamarole is scruff's thing, really. I bit them."

Before Hux can carry on with delving into his best friend's murders, he stares at her. _"'Scruff'?"_

One shapely blonde eyebrow lifts in amusement. "Kylo's the ugliest damn name I've ever heard. Stupid wolf's a mess, so I call him Scruff."

Hux chuckles. It's not like it's unfitting. In fact, it's quite endearing. But they have more pressing matters to discuss. "So," Hux says, attempting to return to the murder topic. "The victims. You bit them, deep enough to kill them. How did you keep it out of the papers?" He can't imagine four-inch bite wounds went by unacknowledged by the media.

"I put the bodies in the lake. Missing ain't gonna get coverage like murdered. Problem solved." Phasma seems fantastically calm as she speaks about this. Hux admires her stability. Although, he was calm for years after he killed seventy innocents for the title of General. And now he hates himself.

"That's reasonable, I suppose. When was the last one?"

"Mine was two years," Phasma says, lips pursed. "Kylo's was a few months ago."

Hux feels a little cold.

"Indirect." Phasma dismisses his concern, shaking her head. "An assistant mechanic at his father's workplace. Nobody really missed the guy."

"Sam?" Hux asks quietly.

"Huh. Look at you, Nancy Drew."

"I found him."

Phasma's eyes glint. "So that was why Ren kept hanging out at the garage."

A strange uncomfortable feeling surfaces in Hux's chest. "What do you mean?"

"It must'a been after you first showed up, he started going there practically every day, just in case you'd come back."

"I went to Johnson's instead," Hux states, "After the mechanic died." His eyes narrow minutely. "I'd like to change the subject now, please."

Phasma chuckles. "Murder, monsters, Kylo Ren's daily life? Take your pick, honey."

Hux's eyes narrow further. "Be quiet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am convinced that it's possible to kick the person next to you in the front of a common 1950s auto so don't cringe thinking that's a plot hole lmao


	22. Chapter 22

It's an ordinary night for Hux, slumped in his chair, desperately trying to come to terms with the most recent world-altering revelations that have been deposited in his lap, when the doorbell rings several times in a row.

At first, something flares up inside him in the hope that it's Kylo at the door, but he doesn't allow the feeling, and quashes it with a gulp of the last of his whiskey. He walks to the door, rolling up his sleeves, and wondering if the house was always this warm, or if perhaps he has had a little much to drink.

When he opens the front door, to his shock, the person standing on his porch actually is Kylo. He's a mess: hair tangled and unwashed, clothes grubby, skin discoloured. But he's there. For several moments, Hux considers that this is some kind of drunken hallucination or mirage, before the very solid Kylo pushes past him to walk into the hall. Stunned and startled, Hux shuts the front door behind him. "What's going on?" Hux asks—almost demands, really. It's quite something to avoid someone for five weeks then burst into their house without apparent cause, so when Kylo doesn't reply, Hux feels justified in his sternness when he snaps, "Kylo."

But Kylo continues to ignore him, and stalks into the living room with a deep frown on his face. Assuming Kylo wants to sit down, Hux follows, but when Kylo reaches the couch, instead of anything Hux was expecting him to do, he balls his hands into fists and kicks the coffee table hard. It tips up, and the empty whiskey glass rolls off and smashes onto the floor. A rough exhale leaves Kylo's mouth, and he spins and kicks the cabinet with a grunt, violently knocking over several old figures of Hux's father's.

This doesn't annoy or offend Hux so much as alarm him. What has happened to Kylo to put him in this state? "Hey," he says to Kylo, stepping closer to him to take ahold of his shoulders, but Kylo jerks and wrestles out of his grasp. _"Hey,"_ Hux shouts again, grabbing Kylo's arms with more force this time and holding him still.

"Fuck!" Kylo spits out, almost a sob, still writhing.

Hux doesn't reduce the strength of his grip. They stand there for almost a minute, both panting, but only one of them squirming, until Kylo calms down enough to cease his onslaught against Hux. Hux loosens his hold, but doesn't let go quite yet, only moves his hands up to rest tentatively on Kylo's shoulders. "Come on," he says to Kylo placatingly, and guides him across the room. "Sit down."

It takes a little push to get Kylo to sink onto the couch, but then he's settling down, and holding himself still without Hux's grip, and Hux exhales in brief relief. He sits down beside him.

"What's happened?" he asks Kylo. He tries to keep his voice light and unobtrusive, but his impatience to know what's wrong impairs his control over himself a little. His plans to talk about Phasma with Kylo have been abandoned completely in the place of this. And if he'd had any intention of discussing Kylo's alleged obsession with him, he's sure that would be out the window too.

"Uncle yelled at me," Kylo says—the first (non-curse) words he has spoken to Hux in five weeks. There's a look in his eye, threatening on the surface but anguished underneath. "About Rey."

 _Dear lord,_ Hux thinks. _What now?_ He waits for Kylo to expand on his statement, not knowing what kind of support to offer when he isn't even sure yet whose side he ought to be on.

"She's been having these headaches. And Uncle got all worked up saying she could have a tumour or something, since she has all the signs." There's a vicious curl to Kylo's lip when he speaks again: "And then he sent Rey to her room and told me it's my fault."

As much as Hux doubts that a reasonable parent would place the blame for their child's illness entirely on another child, he's sure it must have felt that way to Kylo.

"Say something," Kylo says, scuffing his shoe on Hux's carpet.

Hux shifts so he's facing Kylo. Briefly, he puts his hand on Kylo's knee. "I'm sorry Luke blamed you. And I'm sorry Rey might be ill." He lifts his hand lightly off Kylo's leg, and with a heavy brow, asks, "Is she going to the doctor?"

"Tomorrow."

"Well, that's good at least."

Kylo scrunches up his face, as if he was expecting a lot more from Hux, and these simple statements are unsatisfactory as comfort.

"Kylo," Hux begins again. "I'm not sure what I can do about this."

Shoulders hunched, Kylo mutters, "Be nice."

Hux considers how exactly he could be nicer. He sits for a few seconds, not certain whether he's talking himself down or psyching himself up: tentatively, he wraps an arm around Kylo. When Kylo surges across the couch and hugs him back tightly, it quickly becomes apparent that that was the right thing to do. Kylo's body is rigid from his surplus of emotions; Hux has to make an effort to relax his own muscles to make the embrace remotely comfortable.

"I hate this stupid world," Kylo mutters into Hux's jumper.

Without thinking, Hux lifts a hand to rest atop Kylo's hair. "It is getting to be rather subpar lately, isn't it?" he concedes.

Kylo stays in his arms for a very long time, evidently still not adequately comforted even after almost five minutes.

Hux tries to think of something else to say to calm him. "I'm sure it will be nothing," he murmurs, petting Kylo's shoulder. "And even if she is unwell, it will hardly have been your _direct_ fault."

Kylo squirms, as if he intends to argue, but on hearing Hux sigh in anticipation of the opposition he closes his mouth.

Finally, albeit reluctantly, Kylo ends their embrace, and pulls away from Hux. He's still closer than he should be, and he won't look up from his knees, but at last, he looks like he has calmed down.

But then he tenses up, and shifts, hesitantly moving into Hux's space again, and Hux prepares himself for another ten minutes of reassurance and hugging.

Evidently, this is not what Kylo had in mind. Instead, he surges up and kisses Hux. And it's a _real_ kiss, and not just a momentary peck: his lips are parted, and his mouth is soft against Hux's, yielding and wet, and Hux cannot even catch his breath because he's breathing Kylo's air.

The intensity of it all makes something lurch in Hux's stomach. Some cross-breed of hunger and violence and terror. He's not sure whether he wants to escape and purge the situation from his memory or stay there forever.

When Hux pulls back, Kylo does not appear nearly as mortified as he did the first time. In fact, there's nothing like fear or guilt on his face at all. There's solidarity with his actions. He isn't passing it off as a fluke again—although, it isn't as if he could do that even if he had wanted to. Twice is too many times to be a mistake. And along with everything Rey said...

Hux feels as if the temperature in the room has risen even further. (This time he's certain that it's not because of the whiskey.) He looks at Kylo with an intense gaze, and his fingers dig into Kylo's shoulder where he had half-heartedly attempted to push him off moments ago. But Kylo doesn't look intimidated, or like he has changed his mind about anything at all. "What?" Kylo asks, voice quiet, but not meek.

"No," Hux states. He's almost surprised by how anguished he sounds, how angry. _"Stop it."_

Kylo's gaze darkens. He looks angry too, a fierceness in his eyes Hux has never seen before. "Stop what, Hux?" he asks. It's a challenge.

Hux snatches his hand from Kylo's shoulder like it's been burned. He feels scandalised that he's been dragged into this, this ambiguous place of romance and sex and friendship and absolute horror all twined together... As if he wasn't already there himself. "Stop it with your _feelings."_

"I can't," Kylo says, caught between affliction and venom. He slumps back in his seat, still frowning. "If there's no god to send me to hell, what's the point?"

"The point," Hux echoes. "The point is me. I don't want to do this."

Clearly, Kylo genuinely did not anticipate this. He looks caught out, let down. His mouth twitches like he's just short of arguing again, but just like before, at Hux's response, he seems to change his mind, and doesn't speak.

"You're my friend," Hux says. "You're my student. But you're not anything else."

It hurts to say, so tangibly that it's almost physical. Hux feels bruised. He is a liar. He might as well be flagellating himself, coring himself empty with every second he doesn't take back his stupid fibs.

And yet still, Kylo is taking the brunt of things. "Okay," he says to Hux, in a subdued tone. He has never been subdued before.

Hux knows he's completely responsible for this. And he shouldn't be feeling otherwise, he deserves everything that he is dealing with. But he still wants to help.

It's a foolish idea, full of mixed messages, but Hux has already done countless other stupid things today and he's sure just one more won't tip the scale: he hugs Kylo again. It's lighter, and Kylo responds less eagerly than he did before, but from the way his muscles relax, Hux gathers that he probably needed it even more than last time.

Hux inhales and exhales, to try to dissipate some of the tension in his body. But he catches Kylo scent, and quickly regrets it, muscles tensing and heart rate lifting. He smells sweaty, predominantly, with notes of metal and earth and grass underneath it, and it feels overpowering. It's probably not even a particularly strong smell. But Hux knows it won't leave his mind for some time.

He eases away from Kylo. This time, Kylo stays in his own space once the embrace is over. There are a few moments of silence, which Hux is reluctant to disturb, but knows he has to: "I think you should go home," he murmurs to Kylo.

Kylo chances a look at him, and appears to be disappointed with what he sees. He nods.

The next minute, he is gone, the door closed behind him—and Hux lets go of a breath he feels as if he's been holding forever.

—

It's dark. Kylo is long gone, but Hux is still thinking about him. Ceaselessly.

His thoughts are tentative: he doesn't want to accept them as his own as he spirals into genuine consideration of—of _things_. He leans back in his chair, and resists closing his eyes.

What would be so truly wrong with accepting that he is probably obsessed with Kylo in return? _More_ so, even.

Morals would hardly be the main issue, that's clear. Hux's sense of rightness is far too weak for the social aspect of things to be the only obstacle. It's more that he cannot entertain the notion that he might have feelings, especially for a man, and _especially_ for Kylo. He had always thought that if, for whatever reason, he ever had to enter into a relationship, it would be with someone refined, clever, and sharp, like him. Probably somebody exactly like Sloane or Phasma. Not somebody like Kylo. Down to the core of his personality, he is wrong for Hux. Brave and adventurous and young-spirited. He's not given up on anything completely, not yet. Hux, meanwhile, has few dreams and ambitions he _hasn't_ already lost all hope of.

He supposes though... he is distancing himself from his hierarchal beliefs about people who get distracted by emotions. But that doesn't mean that he should just let it overcome him without any thought.

Although his life is feeling more empty as the days go by. And it's difficult to admit, but maybe he would benefit from a distraction. If it was controlled, and not... overindulged in. But he's at a loss thinking of how he could possibly control something of this intensity and magnitude.

Useless thoughts. There's no valid reason to consider something like this, none at all. He dismisses himself, and gets up from his chair to walk off his irrationality. When his feet take him up the stairs, he doesn't protest. He goes to bed, more frustrated than ever, and dreams about hell, and heaven, and monsters, and Kylo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this bitch was so fun to write. Ps sorry lmao


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHOUTOUT TO ANON COMMENTER SANDRA FROM LAST CHAPTER! ur comment made my whole existence. I love u so much. I want to bake u a pie

Hux prepares extensively for the day that Rey will receive her appointment results. Anticipating that his next encounter with Kylo may be centred entirely around Kylo's overflowing emotions, he spends the morning brainstorming comforting phrases for him that are dually reassuring, and completely, blatantly unromantic.

However, they prove unnecessary. At lunch, Kylo explains to him in a subdued voice that the doctor's diagnosis was simply sleeplessness, and that Rey will take some syrup before bed every night, and ought to get better after that. Hux wonders why he isn't joyful that his friend isn't sick, and is heavily contemplating asking, before it hits him like a fist—Hux's presence is making him too uncomfortable to express his feelings. Not Hux's words, not even his manner, but simply his presence, is too much for Kylo to bear.

From the discovery of that small and sharp revelation, it only gets worse. Nothing Kylo does can go by without Hux anxiously analysing it, for discomfort, for underlying meanings. He cannot let anything go.

It's most difficult for the two of them when Kylo slips up and smiles after any positive word or expression from Hux, because now Hux knows exactly why his face flushes so fast. And Kylo knows that he knows why, and that brings a special kind of sickness and guilt to Hux. Kylo radiates humiliation, constantly afraid Hux will reveal his secret and insult him for it, or... god knows what, have him _arrested_. And what can Hux do but sit with the knowledge that it's his fault Kylo is hurting? That he could end it, simply by confessing that he—

He slumps down in his desk chair. The last of his class trails out of the room. Meanwhile, Kylo lingers at his desk under the pretence of needing to discuss his grades.

It was Hux's intention to start up a conversation with Kylo once the other students had gone, but after minutes have passed by and he has barely looked at Hux for more than three seconds, Hux decides that it's probably a futile cause. Even when the classroom door opens, Kylo's head stays resolutely down, too determined to avoid Hux's eyes to chance looking up.

Phasma is the one who steps into the room, tin lunchbox in her hand as usual. "Wow, don't let me interrupt this party," she says as she shuts the door behind her.

Hux almost sighs audibly in relief of her presence. He is fervently grateful for her. Now that both her and Kylo's conditions are common knowledge between the three of them, she has become a welcome mediator in their conversations—but it's a hefty task. The palpable tension between Hux and Kylo is enough to put even Phasma at a loss for words at times.

Today, however, she seems relaxed as ever, despite the boys' emotional and physical rigidity. She settles on top of desk near the front of the class, and toes off one shoe before shimmying the lid off her lunch. In comparison with her, Kylo looks like a statue, unmoving and hunched over his empty notepaper. Phasma eyes him dubiously, then bites her apple, and turns to Hux. "Anything good happen today?" she asks him.

Hux huffs. "Kylo, tell her what Olivers said."

Kylo still does not lift his head. "He said something stupid," he mutters to Phasma.

"Yeah?" Phasma asks.

"Yeah."

Bemused, Phasma turns to Hux, and grimaces. Hux grimaces back, holding her gaze for a while before she gives him a little unhappy smile and returns to her lunch. Breathing out, Hux glances out the window, searching for solace (or any sight other than the moping slump of Kylo's shoulders). Rey is there in the yard, chatting with a couple of girls in her year. She's smiling, but not as much as she does when she's talking with Kylo.

Hux imagines that the two of them would both be far happier if Kylo was out there with her. He makes a decision, and idles up to Kylo's desk, carefully, as if Kylo is an animal he might startle. As he comes closer, Kylo's hands begin shake slightly, and something small crumples inside Hux.

"Kylo," he says, voice low, and crouches down beside the desk. "Why don't you go outside with Rey?"

Kylo looks at him now, finally. He's frowning—he's always frowning nowadays, but this time, there's something else in his eyes, like he's trying to communicate quietly with Hux. _I want to stay with you._

 _Well, you shouldn't,_ Hux wants to say back.

Neither of them speak aloud, and Kylo doesn't move. With the whole room quiet and Phasma fifteen feet away and absorbed in a candy bar, this feels like the last private moment the two of them will have for a while. Hux doesn't want to let it go either. But it would be selfish not to. "Go outside, please," he says.

It sounds too much like a command for Kylo to simply ignore it this time. He slides his notes into his satchel, slowly, then folds the top of his bag over and sidles out.

Hux settles back at his desk, saddened by the relief he feels at Kylo's absence. He wishes Kylo would go outside unprompted more often. But clearly, that would be too much to ask for. Everything is too much to ask for when it comes to him.

"What is it that Olivers said?" Phasma asks idly, making conversation.

"It doesn't matter," Hux mutters.

Phasma grimaces again. She finishes her mouthful of food. "What the hell is wrong with you two?" She pauses. "I mean, him especially, but."

Hux looks at her. Each time in the past few weeks when she has queried if something happened between them, he has brushed her off. Perhaps if he told her at least a vague impression of what happened, he could feel less alone. "He's obsessed with me," he begins, careful not to specify the nature of Kylo's obsession. Phasma is sure to default straight to assuming idol worship of some kind. "And clearly, I'm not obsessed with him."

Phasma watches Hux, with a wonder in her eyes that is somehow almost patronising. "Yes, you are."

Not this again. " _Clearly,"_ Hux repeats, with emphasis, "I'm not."

"You know, Armitage, I do love you. But I think you're deluding yourself."

How exactly is Hux supposed to respond to that? _'Goodness, you're right. I should just go and proclaim my feelings to him right now!'_ He manages a derisive laugh instead.

Phasma's lip twitches at his denial. She seems to decide that she isn't getting through to him, and drops her gaze. Clearly she's aware that they'll be arguing indefinitely if one of them doesn't give up. "You'll sort it out," she murmurs.

Hux laughs even harder at that. It's meant to be mocking, but Phasma seems to interpret it as optimistic. He doesn't correct her interpretation, but at home late that evening he begins to wish that he had. He and Kylo are not going to sort this out. He shouldn't keep stringing himself along, and he shouldn't keep stringing Kylo along. Perhaps cutting off his contact with Kylo isn't such a bad idea after all.

The doorbell rings a single time, and Hux's thoughts are interrupted. The sound echoes through the quiet house, a thin, sharp tone.

Despite having thoughts of abandoning Kylo not moments ago, that humiliating spark of hope that it will be him at the door rises up in Hux's stomach again. He waits several moments, considering ignoring the caller out of some kind of pathetic spite, but then there are two timid knocks, and something about their tone gives him a push that's enough to make him get up. He scrubs his face with one hand as he walks through the hall, before reaching out and opening the door.

There's a rush of movement, and suddenly there are arms around Hux. Black hair tickles his face, and the smell of metal and wood and grass envelops him. He breathes out heavily. _Kylo._

The overflow of contact is jolting to experience. Hux has not received this much engagement from Kylo in weeks. It's quite the step up from timid eye contact... but perhaps it's not much better. Time passes, and Kylo still doesn't speak. (Will he ever speak to Hux in earnest again?) Hux can feel his breaths though, shaking and uneven, and suddenly, he wonders if he's crying. This is an alarming prospect: save for perhaps himself in his younger days, Hux has never had to comfort anyone crying before. When he feels tears soaking through his shirt, something snaps in him. He tries to untangle himself from Kylo, at least to take him into the house, but Kylo grabs his arm. "Don't," he says against Hux's shoulder.

"Kylo," Hux says. It's soft, but it's a warning all the same.

"Shut up," Kylo croaks, voice choked up. There's no venom behind it whatsoever, just pain.

Hux yields, and gives Kylo a few moments more to gather himself so he can explain things to Hux.

The first words Kylo manages are: "My mom." Then he pauses to take in a few trembling breaths. "She's in hospital. She fell down the stairs."

Hux isn't sure if he's ever heard someone sound so emotional. He squeezes Kylo, clueless of what he can offer in response to that. "Please come in," he says quietly, and finally, Kylo yields.

—

Several minutes later, they're sat at Hux's coffee table, each a glass of brandy in hand. Kylo's is empty, downed in one before Hux could even take his first sip. In order to catch up, Hux nurses his own drink, while Kylo digs his fingers into the sides of his empty glass, and pulls his feet up onto the couch to make himself smaller.

"It's my fault," Kylo mumbles into his glass. He nods minutely, as if to affirm his statement. "It's my fault."

Hux puts his own tumbler down with a sharp, damning clink. "It's not your fault," he affirms.

Kylo's lip twitches. "What if I could have stopped it?"

"If you had known how," Hux says, voice low, "You would have."

This seems to resonate with Kylo. Almost imperceptibly, he loses some of the tension in his shoulders, and his foot slides back down onto the floor so that he's less of a ball and more of a human shape again. But still, he seems to feel the need to argue with Hux. "I _should_ have known how," he offers in weak protest.

Hux puts his hands on his knees and leans forward in his seat. He watches Ren. "Kylo," he says firmly. "I can guarantee you that what happened wasn't your fault."

Slowly, Kylo looks up at him. There's an uncertain look in his eye, and his frown is less sad than it was before and more sceptical, and suddenly Hux isn't quite sure what's happening anymore. "Hux," Kylo says, something almost accusing in his tone. "Why do you even bother to comfort me?"

That wasn't something Hux was expecting to hear. Suddenly his mouth goes dry. "You're my friend," he says. It's a limp excuse.

There are still tears drying on Kylo's face, but he is absolutely resolute: "You wouldn't do this for Phasma. But you're always doing it for me."

"Kylo..." Hux begins placatingly.

"Why do you make such an effort for me?" Kylo interjects, his voice getting louder. "You don't do this shit."

This is the most Hux has heard Kylo say in weeks, and he's reeling. He wants to work out how to prove that it's not true, that he treats Kylo exactly the way he treats all his acquaintances, but he knows he'll come up dry.

Kylo seems to follow his train of thought. "I know you wanna prove me wrong." He sucks in his cheeks and smiles a little, seemingly satisfied to have backed Hux into a corner. "But you can't."

Hux shakes his head vehemently, trying to get across how completely out of the question what Kylo's suggesting is. He can't think of words that will deny Kylo's accusations violently enough.

The room is deafeningly quiet. But then Kylo shatters it, bravely stating, "Say you don't have feelings for me." His voice trembles under the weight of the words, but he seems fiercely confident that he knows Hux's response. "Say it."

Hux's voice comes out much quieter than he had wanted. His throat burns. "I don't have feelings for you." He fixes a look on Kylo. "I'm not like that."

"You're not a homosexual or you don't have emotions?"

"Both," he says thinly.

Kylo stares at him, his eyes hard, and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "You're a liar," he says, voice low but dark, then stands up and walks out the living room door, shoving Hux in the shoulder with his elbow on his way there.

Considering that Hux never hears the front door, he assumes that Kylo must still be in the house. He doesn't go after him at first, sinking further into his chair and rubbing his temples instead. He gives himself a few moments for his emotions to cool down before he gets up to look for Kylo.

He doesn't have to go far. He finds a slumped figure sitting at the bottom of the stairs just a few feet out of the living room. Kylo's elbow is resting on his knee, and his forehead is resting in his hand, and he doesn't notice Hux at first. When he does look up, he doesn't meet Hux's eyes, only getting as far as his chest before he drops his gaze again.

"We need to have a conversation," Hux says to him quietly.

Minutely, Kylo nods. He's still frowning, but his anger seems to have been demoted from rage to irritation. He gets up and follows Hux back to the living room to talk.

Except that they don't end up talking. They only stand, too uncomfortable to speak. Hux opens his mouth, certain of what he's going to say, but nothing comes out, so instead he shuts his mouth, pours himself another finger of brandy, and drinks it slowly, wishing the burn would swallow him up and he'd combust into ashes. He's still clutching his glass when there's nothing left in it, still staring at the dark red patterned carpet and wishing that it was fire.

And Kylo is still staring at him—he can feel it. After around half a minute, reluctantly, he looks up to acknowledge him.

Kylo is a sorry state. Eyes intense and shoulders high, he looks tight strung and desperate and _frustrated_. "I..." he begins, voice wavering. "I wouldn't tell anyone. I swear."

And as much as Hux reciprocates his frustration, he cares for Kylo even more.

He slowly sets down his glass with a trembling hand. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to, he hopes. The look in his eyes as he gazes at Kylo, the defeat in his shoulders should be enough.

Recognising, Kylo takes a step towards him. There's hesitancy in his movements, but a spark in his eyes. His fingers twitch, then still—it's clear he can't quite tell if he's perceiving the situation correctly or not.

Hux bites his mouth. "Come here," he says, and hugs Kylo before he has to explain himself.

Kylo settles into the hug, as he does with all of them, but doesn't quite _participate,_ only resting one hand on Hux's upper arm. He swallows, and Hux feels the vibration. Questioningly, he says, "So."

He wants confirmation. Reluctantly, Hux obliges, trying not to let his bitterness seep into his voice: "Yes." It's the closest to an admission Kylo is going to get.

Kylo doesn't seem to need any more. He clutches Hux a little tighter, with both arms now, apparently not angry at him, just relieved—the way Hux is suddenly beginning to feel too. Like this painful thread that has been pulled taut between them for so long has finally snapped, and now they can breathe.

As hard as his confession was to get out, the relief and release flooding Hux now is worth it. But part of him still hurts. Nothing will erase his cowardice. He bites the inside of his mouth, his throat stinging faintly. "Sorry I lied," he says quietly.

The flat of Kylo's hand slides down his shoulder comfortingly. He still doesn't say anything.

"I just..." Hux says, muffled again Kylo's shoulder. "I feel like a disgrace."

"You shouldn't," Kylo says, voice unusually light and soft. "I mean, I like you back. That's pretty good."

That is of some small comfort to Hux... but objectively, it means nothing. It doesn't change what he is. Although, precisely what he is, he's struggling to decide. All he knows is that he wants to condemn himself—whether it's for being a worthless ordinary person or for being an abnormal freak.

"It doesn't matter," Hux says, and he hates how plaintive his voice sounds. He comes to the conclusion that it's the _emotions_ part that he's most ashamed of, and sucks his teeth in disapproval. "I'm not emotionless. I'm ordinary."

Kylo squeezes him. "Come on," he chuckles. "You're hardly ordinary. You're still sweet on me, and I'm a monster. That's gotta be a universal first."

A tiny laugh escapes Hux's mouth. He pets Kylo's hair. "I suppose so."

"Also," Kylo adds, several moments later. "I don't know if you noticed, but you don't see two fellas together that often."

Despite his shame, Hux is amused enough to be smiling by now, and of course it's a small one, but it counts all the same. He stands with Kylo, the two of them pressed together until the smile has faded from Hux's face out of pure tiredness, and they've drifted apart enough that he can see Kylo staring at him intently. After a long moment, Hux indulges him. "What is it?" he asks.

Kylo blinks, and asks quietly, "Can I kiss you?"

Hux shuts his eyes for a few seconds, and thumbs Kylo's shoulder. "No," he says. A moment goes by, and he adds a tentative "Later."

With his mother in hospital, Kylo is hardly in stable condition right now. And as soon as Hux gives it some thought, he thinks that neither is he.

Kylo exhales softly, not quite a sigh, seemingly satisfied enough with the promise of _later_ to let go without a fight. He rests his chin on Hux's shoulder again. "How later?" he mumbles.

"I think you ought to let your heart settle down first." Hux pauses for a beat, wondering if he should tiptoe around the issue of Leia or not. He presses his lips together, and bites the bullet. "When can you visit your mother?"

"Tomorrow."

Hux rests his cheek against Kylo's hair. "I'll take you to the hospital tomorrow, then. Then we'll see."

A chuckle vibrates from Kylo's throat. "'We'll see'? That means _no."_

A fond smile forms on Hux's face. "It doesn't this time," he says. He means it.


	24. Chapter 24

When Kylo refuses to go home that night, Hux lets him sleep in his bed, after stealing a blanket from the cupboard in his room so that he can take the couch himself. Sprawled out on the cushions in the living room, he doesn't sleep until the early morning, instead finding himself staring at the ceiling in the blackness for hours. His thoughts centre primarily around Kylo... or more bluntly, around his feelings in regard to Kylo. They've been suppressed for a long time, compartmentalised in his head and denied, and now that they've been brought into the open, Hux is faced with the task of accepting them—and that's like a brick to the stomach.

Eventually, he falls asleep, and blessedly does not have any dreams. He imagines that any dream he would have had would have been some kind of nightmare about emotions, and on waking, he feels rather lucky that he didn't have to experience that.

He gets up to stretch, and finds that he has a crick in his neck from the sofa. He hears Kylo's footsteps on the hardwood floor of the hallway, and is about to start complaining about it to him, but then he actually sees Kylo—his hair is soft and mussed from sleep, and when he comes closer, he smells of Hux's laundry detergent, and suddenly, Hux decides that the crick is not so bad.

They eat breakfast in the kitchen, and while grazing at his apple, Kylo tells Hux that he wants to wait until afternoon to visit the hospital.

Hux frowns at him. "Are you sure?" he asks. "I could take you now."

Kylo shakes his head, adamant, as if he's convinced that if he waits a few hours, Leia will have made a full recovery by the time he arrives to see her. "No. I wanna wait."

So they wait: they sit in the living room after breakfast, and Kylo catches Hux up on everything that happened while they weren't speaking. The highlight is that apparently, Rey and her boyfriend Finn are now going steady, and it seems that Kylo is finally beginning to lose his apprehension about Finn's character, to Rey's delight.

They eat lunch blanketed in a silence that is both comforting and apprehensive, each of them not yet accustomed to where they are now. Although under the surface, Kylo must be nervous and upset, he’s still eager to please Hux. Some more light encouragement from Hux is all it takes to get them out of the house—although as soon as they're on the road, Kylo seems to begin to regret it. At this point though, it's too late. He needs to go and see his mother.

The hospital building is large and unfriendly, and the bright red _H_ sign nailed above the doors does nothing to soften its appearance. Hux feels regretful that Kylo will have to walk in by himself.

The two of them are sitting in the car in the parking lot, waiting until Kylo has the courage to go inside. Hux is thinking of giving Kylo a push when he says, "Come in with me." His tone is impulsive, like he hasn't thought this through, and he's wringing his hands.

Of course it's a compelling offer, but it's too inappropriate for Hux to even consider. That's not somewhere he belongs, sitting with Kylo's family at his mother's bedside. He gives Kylo a reluctant look. "You know I can't."

People bustle around by the entrance to the hospital, and other autos cruise past, finding a spot to park. Hux wants to hug Kylo, offer him some kind of comfort, but everything seems too conspicuous to do in public. In lieu of a hug, he takes Kylo's hand out of view of the passers by, and squeezes it reassuringly. "You'll be all right."

Kylo looks up at from from under his eyelashes. "Yeah," he murmurs, then offers a tiny smile that doesn't project much happiness. "I hope."

—

Hux supposes that he could go home instead of waiting in the parking lot for Kylo to come out, but it doesn't feel right to leave him. Obviously, it's a possibility that his father will drive him home, but Hux doubts that Kylo will want to go straight back to the Solo residence after what happened. He ought to give him another option, other than the park. So he waits, idly watching the doors and all the people passing through them for Kylo's white tee and black mop of hair.

He reappears at the entrance around an hour and a half after going in, looking a little shaken, but not completely distraught. Once in the car with Hux again, he settles into his seat, his back sliding down the backrest slightly so he's low enough that his view of the world outside is obstructed.

"What's the damage?" Hux asks tactfully.

"Broken shin, and three toes," Kylo says, blinking down at his knees. "Two sprained wrists. And a concussion."

Hux tries not to wince. "So she's awake, at least?" he offers carefully.

Kylo nods. "She woke up this morning. Dad was there, so it's okay."

"Is he still there?"

"Yeah, he wants to stay there tonight."

Surprised, Hux raises his eyebrows for a second. "That's quite dedicated."

The information doesn't seem at all surprising to Kylo. "I guess," he says.

Idly, Hux lifts his hand to rest on the steering wheel. "So, do you want to go home?" he asks, after a pause. "Or would you rather be kept company?"

The smile that appears on Kylo's face is much more real than the last one was. "Keep me company?" he decides.

Hux's lip quirks too as he rests both hands on the steering wheel. He drives Kylo back to his house, and doesn't even complain when Kylo spends six consecutive minutes entertaining himself by winding the window up and down.

When they get home, Hux decides that his house must feel rather cold and dull to someone in sensitive condition, so he blows the dust off his old Monopoly set and proposes that he and Kylo play a game. Kylo takes him up on his offer and sets up the board on the floor of Hux's living room, then kneels comfortably in front of it. It takes a lot of badgering to get Hux onto the floor with him, but eventually he's successful, and Hux crouches onto the ground opposite him, rolling his eyes emphatically as he settles on the carpet.

Kylo wins the game twice in a row. Hux is a gracious loser while Kylo is the sorest winner Hux has ever encountered, but Hux doesn't prod him about it. It's good enough to see him close to happy.

Eventually, they pack away the Monopoly and retire to the couch, finally into a seat that supports Hux’s posture. Kylo, however, instantly manages to contort into what looks like the most spinally damaging position Hux can possibly think of. Not only this, but it conveniently tilts his body towards Hux. Hux tries to maintain a small distance between the two of them, keeping any ill-timed temptation at bay without raising any suspicion from Kylo.

They talk again, about a hundred different pointless tiny topics, and Hux loves every minute of it, even—or, perhaps especially—Kylo’s over-involved tangent on the ridiculousness of Phasma’s nickname for his furry counterpart. (“I am _not_ scruffy. It’s a wonder I even look remotely groomed with what I get up to.”)

Gradually, their conversation peters out, and Kylo is beginning to look tired. The grandfather clock strikes ten, and the two of them both turn and glance at it, ever so slightly startled. When Hux turns back, Kylo has turned his gaze to him. He pauses, then says to Hux, "I wanna sleep at home tonight."

So they drive in the dark to the Solo residence—all the way there this time rather than just to the church, considering that Han will be at the hospital for the night—and Kylo tugs Hux into the house with him, proclaiming something about how cold it is outside. It's clearly a flimsy excuse to spend even longer with Hux, but it isn’t like Hux is about to object to that. So when Kylo pulls him up the stairs with him, he follows, hardly thinking.

As they near what Hux assumes is Kylo's room, it occurs to him suddenly how private a space he is about to enter. He has not been in anybody else's bedroom in a decade. He almost feels as if he should prepare himself. He hasn't a clue what he might be about to see: childish knicknacks and curios, movie posters, half completed homework assignments? A nuclear bomb site of clothes and scraps of litter, catastrophically messy, save for an immaculate shrine of photographs of Kylo and Rey?

When Kylo pushes the door open, however, Hux finds that his every assumption was wrong. Kylo's room is... neat. Normal. His blankets are folded, his cabinets are closed, his drawers are not overflowing, and the only litter in sight is in the wastepaper bin.

Kylo flops onto the bed and settles into a cross legged position, then starts to shrug off his jacket. Hux begins to walk around the room, idly exploring, taking in everything for the first time. He comes upon a cabinet which is well decorated with frames, and finds a smile on his face: no, Kylo's bedroom is not a horrific car crash of organisation and hygiene—but yes, there are photographs. So many that Hux almost begins to feel left out that he isn't in any of them. It's clear that the portrait shelf downstairs only scratches the surface of the documented aspect of the Solo-Skywalker family's life.

There's a grainy shot of Rey and Kylo at the beach. Rey and Kylo at the diner. Kylo and his mother in their garden in the summer. Kylo and his father, both dressed in overalls and covered in grease, sitting at a bench in the mechanic's workshop.

And one particular shot that catches Hux's focus, and does not let it go: a younger Kylo, perhaps fifteen, fresh faced and innocent, standing with Luke and smiling, as if the two of them are thick as thieves. He parts his lips to make an observation about the photograph, but then stops abruptly, voicing a startled, "Oh," as soon as he sees Kylo. He has started to take his shirt off.

Kylo laughs, almost giggles, at the expression on Hux's face. "It's just how I sleep," he says. "What, is it too much for you?"

A huff leaves Hux's mouth, a permissive sound. He wants to say no, but Kylo might be right. He turns away while Kylo climbs under the sheets, his eyes flitting over the walls, and catches sight of the clock. It's later than he expected. "I should go," he tells Kylo.

He turns back to to see Kylo sitting up in bed, the blankets bunched up around his middle. "I guess," Kylo says, slightly reluctantly. He shuffles about in bed and lies down, resting his head on his pillow. "I'll see you."

Hux nods, and smiles. "Goodnight." He looks Kylo over once more, then moves to leave, stepping towards the door.

"Wait," Kylo says suddenly. Hux turns around. Kylo is up on his elbows in bed, looking up at Hux with an expression he's only seen on his face a scarce couple of times before. The low light of the bedroom lamp softens Kylo's eyes, and his whole face. He watches Hux for a second, and says, "Kiss me goodnight."

Hux gives a fond smile. Of course he wishes he could indulge in that, but with Kylo still vulnerable, it's just not the right time. "Not tonight," Hux says. He doesn't expect Kylo to understand his reasoning, but that's something they’ll both just have to live with, he supposes.

Briefly, Kylo wilts, looking away from Hux and sinking back down against his pillow. But then a smile finds its way onto his face, and he meets Hux's gaze again, and says, "Your loss."

Hux chuckles. "It is," he appeases.

He feels a lot less like he's leaving something unfinished departing Kylo's room this time. Nothing found, nothing lost. He doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, what a 3 weeks I’ve had, my dudes! My 49 tumblr blogs got terminated sadly. but happily, I went to lovely florida (WHERE THIS FIC BEGAN 2 YEARS AGO!), and bought $50 worth of sweets and awesome garbage for myself and my girlfriend. but sadly I’m gonna be travelling for the next 19 hours. but happily I realised that im going to be 18 in 75 days so I’m thinking of planning a bitchin party. Although I will have to be in bed for most of it. but I can still drink. Just out of a sippy cup.
> 
> anyway, I hope u enjoyed the chapter, and my inane rambling. peace.


	25. Chapter 25

Kylo frets for weeks about his mother. Still somehow feeling responsible for her injuries, he relies on Hux's repeated reassurances that he is not an evil being to get by. As a side effect of this, he ends up spending more time lingering around Hux's home than at his own house, to Hux's quiet pleasure. Of course the circumstances are not ideal, but it produces the opportunity for some enjoyable moments nonetheless.

And soon, their afternoons together are no longer tainted at all by Kylo’s anxiety. As a product of sheer luck, Leia’s wrists recover speedily, and she progresses from bed rest to crutches within three weeks. Kylo rushes to tell Hux the news that night, taking this as an opportunity to dive into Hux’s arms without reprehensibility. No excuse of morality available to defend his nervousness towards being close to Kylo, Hux holds him in return.

Still in Hux’s embrace, Kylo murmurs something about how it would be good if Hux would come by to visit Leia. Hux tenses undeniably. “Why?” he asks Kylo, in a tone he hopes is not too rude.

“Cos she’s my mom,” says Kylo, as if that explains everything.

Hux thinks of resisting, but he supposes it wouldn’t be so hard just to drop by and offer some well-wishes. “If it’s that important to you,” he relents.

“It’s not.” Kylo pulls back, and his eyes dart up to meet Hux’s, a coquettish look on his face. “But you’ll do it anyway, won’t you?”

It would be instinctual for Hux to glare and curse at anybody else, but instead, he pulls Kylo closer, and laughs into his hair.

—

The Solo residence looks the same as usual on the outside. However, inside, the changes in the living room since the last time Hux was there are exceedingly prominent. Just about every available surface in the living room is decorated with cards, or bouquets of flowers, most of which are pink. It hurts Hux’s eyes a little. “Goodness,” he muses. “Your mother certainly received a lot of get-well favours.”

“Half of them are from Rey’s friend Poe,” Kylo says, a grimace on his face. “He’s like, obsessed with her.” He picks one of the cards off the shelf—a large red one with a loving illustration of a sick teddy bear on it. He inhales, and begins to read, face contorted with exasperation: _“‘Dear Mrs Lady Dame Leia Organa Solo. I couldn’t decide which card to get you, so I got you five. I hope that for the good of the town and the country, you recover soon. Sincerely and respectfully, Poe Dameron (Rey’s friend with the bike).’”_

 _“‘For the good of the country’?”_ Hux quotes. “What is he talking about?”

“Mom was a big part of the war effort,” Kylo says, beginning to look a tad uncomfortable. “She led our Women’s Auxiliary Corps.”

Curiousness overtakes Hux’s features. “You never told me that.”

Kylo shrugs. “Why would I? It’s not relevant.”

“It’s quite impressive. I would have thought you’d want to show it off.”

“But then people would just be impressed with her,” Kylo scoffs.

That does make rather a lot of sense. Kylo is not really someone who can put up with being pushed into the background.

“Ben?” a voice calls. Both Hux and Kylo turn to the doorway to see Leia appear there.

Leia exclaims at the sight of them, and approaches Hux on her crutches. “Hello. Mister— _General_ Hux, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Hux nods.

“Is this... a school matter?” Leia asks.

Hux blinks. “No,” he says. “I came to wish you well. Kylo’s been quite anxious about you lately.”

Kylo instantly looks to the ground, away from his mother’s face.

Contrastingly, Leia looks straight at her son, filled with fondness for him. She pats the top of his hair with one hand, holding her crutch under her arm. “Dear, I’m sorry about all the stress,” she says to him in a subdued voice. Then she looks to Hux again, and smiles a less fond but perfectly warm and friendly smile. “That’s so kind of you. I take it you’re the one who’s brought him back towards school lately?”

“I suppose that would be me,” Hux says, suppressing the smile that’s attempting to creep onto his face.

“I must say, I’m awfully pleased to meet you again.” Leia worms her hand out of the way of her crutch, then holds it out to Hux.

Hux shakes it heartily. “Likewise. Glad to be here.”

Kylo looks mortified through all of this. Hux holds back a chuckle.

—

Hux spends a pleasant hour having tea with Ms Organa. Kylo spends an intolerable hundred years waiting for Hux’s hour to be over.

When they leave the Solo residence, Kylo appears close to combusting. “I imagine you’re regretting asking me to drop by now,” Hux says to him in the car.

Kylo looks like he’s considering sticking his tongue out at Hux, or making some kind of inappropriate gesture.

“Well, no matter,” Hux continues anyway. “I had quite a nice time.”

“You would,” Kylo mutters rudely.

Hux parts his lips indignantly. “You _asked_ me to come over.”

Kylo appears exasperated. “You know me, I’m an idiot. You shouldn’t listen to me.”

Hux laughs in disbelief. His eyes flicker from the road to Kylo. Kylo is still frowning, but he looks like he’s holding back a smile as well.

—

The first time the creature approaches Hux after _certain feelings_ became known to _certain people_ is a curious affair. Hux is doing housework, putting bits and bobs away, when he first notices that something in his room is amiss. His shadow on the bedroom wall doesn't quite... make sense. There is a distortion at the outline of his body. He lifts his hand curiously to try to determine what part of him is casting that shape, and then takes a step to the right. His body moves, but the lump does not.

That is not his shadow.

Hux turns around, and the black creature is stood gazing at him. He blinks at it, then a tiny smile makes its way onto his face as he suddenly recalls seeing little hints of movement in his peripheral vision and feeling small disturbances in the air as he was dusting downstairs. "How long have you been following me around?" he asks.

The creature looks up at him, then down at the floor.

Hux's smile gets bigger. "Lonely?"

He reaches down to scratch behind the creature’s ear, and it leans into the touch, pleased with the attention. Hux has missed this strange fellow. Almost as much as he missed Kylo.

He finishes off his housework with the creature idly following him about. It’s enjoyable to have company; he’s become accustomed to doing everything by himself.

Finished with tidying his room, Hux heads across the landing, towards the stairs. “Come on, Scruff,” he says, testing the name.

Scruff trots after him. Hux feels pleased.

The creature watches him patiently as he cooks his dinner downstairs, licking its lips periodically. Experimentally, when the dinner is nearly ready, Hux tosses down a slice of cooked carrot onto the floor to see what will happen. Scruff stares at it, gives it a cautious sniff, then takes a step backwards from it, repulsed, and looks up at Hux once more.

“Hm,” Hux says. He abandons the pots in front of him for a moment and goes to peer in the fridge. The creature watches in fascination as he produces a raw butcher’s steak wrapped in brown paper, and lays it down on the counter. Wrinkling his nose, Hux peels off the top layer of paper and then drops the steak on the kitchen floor. He’ll clean up later.

Entranced, the creature sniffs the steak, and then begins to lick it intently. Hux goes back to serving his own slightly more civilised meal—potatoes, carrots, and chicken—then sets his plate on the table and sits down. Across the kitchen, Scruff is ripping the steak apart between its teeth.

“Dinner for two,” Hux muses, and digs in to his carrots.

—

By the next morning, Scruff is gone, likely frolicking in the woods. But Kylo returns to Hux’s house in the afternoon, looking well groomed and rested (and human). Hux presumes he managed to catch some sleep at home.

“Hello,” he says to Kylo when he turns up at the door.

Kylo lets himself in as soon as the door is open, and heads to the living room to flop onto the couch. “Hey.”

“I saw you yesterday.” Hux hopes Kylo will understand that he is referring to the creature. He shuts the front door.

“I know,” Kylo chuckles. “I was there.”

Hux sits down on the couch next to Kylo. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You know.” _Scruff_ you. He waits a beat. “The creature was avoiding me before, wasn’t it?”

“Before?” Kylo asks, slightly tentatively. “Yeah.”

“Why was that?”

Kylo snickers. “Guess.”

As is the usual when anything relating to emotions is brought up, Hux tenses. “You were avoiding me,” he begins carefully, “Because you liked me?”

Kylo tilts his head like it’s obvious.

“I looked for you at school when you were gone, you know.” _Because I liked you._

The two of them are sitting closer than they were, and Hux isn’t quite sure of how it happened. He’s suddenly tangibly aware of the space his body is taking up. His eyes flicker to Kylo’s chest, his broad shoulders, then back to his face. He looks like he wants to say something. Hux waits for him to speak.

"Can I kiss you?" Kylo asks finally. The request sounds much sweeter than Hux would have expected.

“Yes,” Hux says, without thinking.

Of course he has been kissed before by someone other than Kylo; he's slept with women before. He's twenty eight, and he's been pushed into living his life at least a little. But he was usually drunk, and they were only ever women loitering around his army base who couldn't speak a word of English.

It was never unpleasant. He never actively disliked it—but he never coveted it like the other men seemed to, he never seemed to want to work for it at all. Every kiss was overly methodical and almost boring, and there was nothing more he really wanted once it was over.

He wonders if he will want more this time. If Kylo will. If they'll be ruined after this. The doubts begin to bubble up, turning Hux's throat scratchy with anxiety, and he twists in an aborted movement, almost going to stand up—but Kylo catches his wrist, holds it. He puts his other hand to Hux's shoulder, pressing his back lightly against the couch, and leans in and captures his mouth in a kiss.

It catches Hux off guard enough that he lets it happen, allows Kylo to lead him, suddenly glad that he didn’t have to be the one to initiate.

Kylo is clumsy, but the purposeful slide of his lips against Hux's still manages to feel startlingly good. It's wetter than Hux was expecting, and he doesn't like the dampness, but he likes the warmth, and he most definitely likes Kylo.

This time, he tries to pay attention to every detail. Kylo's fingers are warm against the skin of his wrist, still holding on, and his other hand is firm on Hux's shoulder. It slides down to his upper arm, and the pressure is comforting.

Hux reaches up to reciprocate the touch. He's too cowardly to touch Kylo's cheek, so instead his hand comes to rest on the back of Kylo's neck. That gives him the leverage to gently pull Kylo closer to him and eliminate the small gap left between them. Suddenly, the kiss is intimately deeper, and Kylo parts his lips so Hux can press closer, and at that, Hux decides that he doesn't want to break away, possibly ever again.

It's not at all just skin on skin like Hux had been anticipating, the way it had felt with the women at his base. It’s unexpectedly... something. He can’t find words to encapsulate how _something_ it really is.

He is almost dizzy, but he doesn't want to come up to breathe. Kylo presses his chest to Hux's, and then it's a little too much. With a quiet gasp for air, Hux pulls away, his hand still resting lightly on Kylo's neck. Kylo watches his eyes, breathes almost in time with Hux as he catches up with himself. There's silence except for their breaths, and it's not awkward at all to Hux, until Kylo bursts out in laughter. "I'm sorry," he says to Hux. "It's not how I expected."

"Oh?" Hux says questioningly. A small anxious weight sinks to the bottom of his stomach, cold and getting heavier already, dampening the buzz in his veins from the kissing.

And then Kylo nudges him, and gives him a lopsided smile. "It's better, stupid."

—

Following that encounter, change finds Kylo and Hux quickly.

Phasma and Rey quickly catch on to the fact that their relationship has become drastically different over the past month. Rey queries nothing in front of Hux: presumably she has already questioned Kylo in private, and come to a satisfactory resolution. Phasma, however, bluntly interrogates Hux and Kylo together at lunchtime one day... although, it’s to no avail.

“You can’t tell me that nothing happened,” Phasma insists. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I suppose things just resolved themselves,” Hux says coolly. He glances at Kylo, who shrugs and nods.

Phasma narrows her eyes. “Whatever you say.”

She doesn’t question them again after that, although Hux does still catch her giving them suspicious glances on occasion when they seem particularly close.

But it’s easy to ignore Phasma. It’s rather easy to get around everyone, in fact.

Once Kylo starts spending half his nights at Hux’s house, they develop a plan, and the two of them find themselves embedded in routine before they know it. They drive to school an hour early in the mornings, and leave an hour late, loitering in Hux's classroom in the meantime until the rush of teenagers has thinned out enough for them to get to Hux's car without drawing any attention to themselves.

Occasionally, in the mornings, Hux extends an invitation to the perpetually early Rey, which Kylo delights in. Hux finds she isn’t bad company at all. A pleasant conversationalist, and more amusing and witty than Hux could have expected of such a mild girl.

Everything settles into a strange kind of domesticity. Kylo's things start to find their place in Hux’s house. Hux begins stocking twice as much food in his pantry.

It all seems rather uncharacteristically perfect. On reflection of things Hux begins to feel a quiet, impending sense of dread: things have never gone this well in his life for so long without being interrupted by some catastrophe. But perhaps this time he will be lucky, and things will stay perfect for once.

Perhaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dear god. Pls give me feedback on that smoochy scene i don’t know how to write kissing


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to Me. I've been 18 for about a week now and my bday party was great, but now im alone and thinking about my life which is a bad move lmao. im 18 and bedbound. what a good time

A knocking at his classroom door distracts Hux from the tedious work he had been marking. He looks towards the sound to see Rae Sloane in the doorway. Her hair is tied back tightly, and she dons a light purple ensemble with a high collar. Strangely, it seems some kind of a routine for Sloane to try to look fashionably striking every day. Hux is not sure she would make it onto the pages of one of those uninteresting glossy magazines, but she certainly looks memorable to him.

“Hello,” he says to her.

Sloane nods in acknowledgement, but doesn’t speak. She steps into Hux’s classroom and carefully shuts the door behind her.

Hux pauses. “Did you have something to discuss?”

“Kylo Ren,” are Sloane‘s only words.

The air in the room changes. Hux doesn’t like the taste of it. “He’s a student of mine,” he says carefully.

“I know. He spends a lot of time in your classroom after school.”

Although unsure if Sloane’s intention was to attack him, Hux still feels the need to defend himself. “He needs some extra help.”

“Nobody needs that much extra help.”

All right. That was definitely an attack. Hux’s body stiffens. “I’m mentoring him.”

Sloane’s eyes are piercing, but her voice is soft. “I don’t think you are.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Nothing,” Sloane smiles slightly. “I just appreciate honesty.”

“Well, I refuse to say whatever you’re trying to force on me,” Hux says tersely.

Sloane chuckles, and leans back against the door. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Sceptical, Hux blinks.

“I’m your friend. I’m not the enemy.”

The furrow in Hux’s brow deepens. If she is still his friend, then why is she interrogating him? “What do you want from me?”

“Don’t be hostile,” Sloane says, her voice gentler than before. “Hux, I’m just being kind.”

Hux feels a flicker of fear in his chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sloane watches him from the doorway. She nods as if to emphasise a point. “You and the boy.”

—

Rae Sloane is too intelligent for her own good. And too kind for Hux’s.

He tells her nothing. However, she makes it clear that she already knows everything. He probably ought to panic, but Sloane also makes it clear that she has no intentions of doing anything with the information she’s gathered. Instead, the whole experience leaves Hux feeling a strange sense of calm. It’s a small relief for somebody else to know the truth about his feelings for Kylo.

He won’t tell Kylo about this, he decides. It’s best to shield him from any worry of being discovered. And it’s best for Hux to have a confidant just to himself.

Hux doesn’t see Kylo again until the next night. He almost feels on edge sitting by him, knowing that Sloane is aware they do this, but then Kylo makes some stupid joke, and Hux laughs and Kylo kisses him. And then the Sloane matter seems significantly less important.

Kissing is endlessly entertaining, to the extent that Hux could never have imagined. He is fascinated by the way their mouths fit together perfectly. By the way Kylo will tuck his nose next to Hux's so he can lean closer. By the lock of Kylo's hair that simply keeps breaking free when Hux tucks it away from his face.

All of those little things had seemed so terribly dull when it was somebody else. But now it's him—him, and Kylo—and it's so different.

However, through some miracle, in lessons, things somehow manage to stay the same. Or, at least, the same as how they had been before Hux was aware of Kylo’s feelings. Kylo makes the odd snarky remark, but otherwise buckles down and gets his work done. He mostly tries to avoid staying after class to escape being dubbed the teacher’s pet, and instead limits himself to only hanging about in Hux’s room before and after school. And it’s effective. Save for some rumours that Kylo’s parents are buying him off to behave, nobody questions Kylo’s newfound dedication to his education, or his relationship with Hux.

It’s remarkably lucky. Hux counts his blessings.

—

Hux is folding laundry at home when a rush of air disturbs his calm. He glances about the room, expecting to find the source of the disturbance, but nothing reveals itself to him, so he returns to his laundry.

But something is not right. Something is creeping across the length of the room under cover of shadows. The floor creaks, and Hux turns around, and jumps at the foreboding shape in the corner of the living room. Then Scruff raises its head, and Hux loses the tension in his shoulders. It's been some time since he's seen his familiar, and it's a pleasant surprise on such a dull, tired night.

Or. Perhaps not. Scruff’s eyes are snake-like, and its body language is starkly different to its usual playful demeanour. It prowls towards Hux, and as its feet fall softly in a predatory prowl, with a sickening jolt, Hux realises that this is not his friend. It bares its teeth, yellowed from old bloodstains, and a spike of viciousness flashes across its eyes that chills Hux to the core.

Unsure what to do, Hux freezes, willing himself not to panic. Although, it isn’t as though that would be completely irrational. Last time a similar situation to this arose, the creature attacked him.

But this time, history does not repeat itself.

Perhaps the creature senses the blatant fear in Hux’s eyes and decides to take pity on him, or perhaps it has someplace urgent to be—but the monster gives him one last look, then stalks away in a flash.

Breathing more heavily than he should be, Hux sinks against the wall. He needs to talk to Kylo.

—

“So I just stared at you?” Kylo asks. They’re sat at two desks in Hux’s classroom, Hux having called Kylo over after an early lesson.

Hux squirms. “You also showed your teeth. You don’t usually do that.”

“But I didn’t attack you or anything?”

“No,” Hux says, disgruntled. “That doesn’t negate the fact that it bothered me.”

“Okay,” Kylo says. “But I really don’t think it’s something to worry about.”

Hux watches Kylo silently. “You didn’t see yourself.”

The classroom door opens, and Hux suppresses a flinch: it’s only his next class.

“I’ll keep working on the essay,” Kylo says to Hux, at unnecessary volume. “I promise I’ll hand it in by tomorrow.”

“You’d better,” Hux says. He stands up, and watches as Kylo weaves between the students that are flooding in, then disappears out the door.

The class eventually settles into their seats, and Hux starts talking about their current novel. It’s all very usual and boring, and meanwhile, Hux just cannot stop thinking about Scruff stood in his living room, glaring at him as if he was prey.

A flash of white out the window suddenly steals his focus. He glances up: it’s the white creature, creeping along the outskirts of the schoolyard, keeping to where she is hidden from view of all save for Hux.

Phasma, Hux realises: surely she’ll have some insight about this creature matter. He pushes through his lesson plans with impatience, eager for the end of the day to come, and when it finally does, fate blesses him. He’s rushing out of his classroom to find Phasma when he bumps into her. They both exclaim, and Hux almost drops his briefcase. A bewildered look is a stricken across Phasma’s face.

“I was just looking for you,” Hux tells her, taking her arm.

“Well, you’ve found me,” Phasma says. She follows him in confusion, and is still frowning when he shuts the classroom door behind them. “Is there a problem?”

Hux’s hand is still on the door handle. “Not exactly. I just have a concern.” He turns around to face her. “Is your creature you?”

Phasma doesn’t quite seem to understand. “Of course she is.”

“But is she entirely you? Are you sure there isn’t a part of her that you‘re detached from?”

Settling on a desk, Phasma glances Hux up and down. “Are you all right?”

Hux chuckles at that. “Am I ever? Now please, tell me. Is it possible that part of your creature is not you at all?”

Apparently, Phasma is in a difficult mood today. “What’s brought this on?” she asks.

“Scruff came to my house, looking frightening. More so than usual.”

There’s a smirk on Phasma’s face. “I see that name is sticking.”

Hux waves his hand. “Yes, it’s sticking. Anyway, Kylo looked wrong. And it really felt to me like his creature was somebody else, and it got me wondering if that was at all possible.”

Phasma purses her lips. They’re deep red today, to match the ruffle of her tulle underskirt. “I suppose there’s a slight possibility.”

“Because considering the periods of amnesia, it would make sense. Who is in control when you aren’t?”

“I don’t know,” Phasma says, shaking her head sceptically. “I think we just forget. I think it’s us in a different state.”

Hux wants to argue: he‘s all prepared to scrub his face and go off on a tangent, but there is a boy grinning at him through the little window in the classroom door. Hux stills with his hands mid-gesture. The boy looking at him has medium brown skin, and wears a copious amount of grease in his hair, and a leather jacket and white shirt. Hux has no idea who he is. “Come in,” he invites tentatively. The words almost sound like a question.

The boy opens the door, and trails up to Hux, still smiling. He offers a little extra smile to Phasma, then turns to Hux again. “Hi, General.”

“Hello,” Hux says, letting his hands come to rest by his sides. “Why are you here?” he asks faintly.

“I’m Poe Dameron.”

“Yes, but why are you here?”

“I just wanted to let you know you’re doing an excellent job at teaching,” Poe says, with a sort of shallow bow.

Hux is frowning deeply, and he can’t seem to relax his face. The name rings a faint bell, but he still does not know who this boy is. “Are you in one of my classes?”

“No,” says Poe, “I just heard what you did with Ben Solo, turning him into a model student. I thought that was spectacular.”

Hux nods slowly. “Thank you.”

Poe nods too, and grins. “That’s all.”

“All right, then.”

Hux watches in bemusement as Poe strolls out the classroom door and shuts it behind him.

“That was... unusual,” Phasma says after a long while. “Who on earth was that?”

Lips parted in confusion, Hux stares at the door. “I haven’t got a clue.”

—

That night, Hux sits on the sofa at home, and Kylo sprawls out beside him with his head rested in Hux’s lap. The creature issue has been playing on Hux’s mind all day, and he can’t help himself from bringing it up again. “Kylo... That incident last night,” he begins. He weaves his fingers into Kylo’s hair, a weak attempt at making Kylo more receptive to conversation. “I’m worried about that happening again and something going wrong.”

Kylo rolls onto his back to look up at Hux. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says. “And if I do, I’ll just fix it, like I did the first time.”

“I’m not worried about me,” Hux says. “What if you hurt somebody you won’t be able to find again to heal them, because you don’t remember them?” He lowers his voice, even though they’re far away from prying ears. “What if you kill someone again?”

Kylo stays quiet. Hux waits for him to reply, but after around a minute, sighs. It isn’t worth it. He runs his fingers through Kylo’s hair instead, distracting himself with its uncanny softness, and the contrasting colours of his pale hands and Kylo’s dark hair. Kylo closes his eyes. With no one observing him, Hux’s lips form a small smile.

It’s relaxing: the repetitive motion, the quiet, the warmth of Kylo curled up against him. And the privilege of being able to watch his face for such a long while, uninterrupted—even if it is upside down. He’s of such unusual beauty, Hux thinks he could spend hours watching him. The cut of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips, the line of his wonky nose.

Eventually, Hux’s eyes defocus, and he becomes lost in a haze of empty thoughts. His fingers move through Kylo’s hair automatically, and his breathing slows to a rate so lax he might as well be asleep.

But of course, after some time, his usual insistent wonderings begin to surface again. Considering that asking about the creature didn’t bode very well, Hux turns to the odd encounter he had with that student. “Do you know a boy called Poe?” he asks Kylo. Kylo doesn’t reply.

Hux glances down, and Kylo is asleep. Ah, well. Hux supposes he can interrogate him later. For now, he returns to watching him: an easy and comfortable pastime.

Kylo sleeps like a child, mouth open, hands curled into loose fists and pressed up against his cheek. His hair is splayed out over Hux’s trousers by his face. Hux thinks that when Kylo gets up, he will definitely need a hairbrush. But Hux doesn’t move him. He just sits, peaceful, and wishes for this moment to last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUN BIRTHDAY GAME: ask the author
> 
> Comment any questions you have about me, my life, or this book (no asking for spoilers), and I’ll answer! Make it interesting... Or not. I’ll be excited at any questions tbh :^)

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is babysaints if u want to contact me!
> 
> please leave kudos or comments to make my day. i love validation :)


End file.
